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by uniquelio



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Angst, Elio is 17, Elio questions himself too much, Eventual Smut, First Dates, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Italy, M/M, Oliver is a little shit sometimes, Oliver owns a pizzeria, Slow Burn, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-25 03:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquelio/pseuds/uniquelio
Summary: Oliver is twenty-four, he has left his hometown to pursue what he really wanted: freedom. He lives in Crema now, a lovely Italian city where he can express himself how he want and where he can be himself. He has opened a pizzeria, nothing exciting but at least it allows him to live decently without asking for money. His life is not perfect and what he really needs is a place that he can call "home."Elio is seventeen, he's going through his last year of high-school alone, his parents has left him in their villa because they wanted to travel the world again. He has friends, he has a promising career ahead of him and he's smart and loved by everyone. Elio has a secret that keeps from everyone but Marzia, and it's eating him alive: he's gay.Elio and Oliver meet in an innocent way but their friendship starts rumors, rumors that makes Elio's life hard at school in a time where queer people were seen as dirty and perverted. Oliver will stay with him through his turbulent last year and Elio will start to trust him more and more.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> [How they look in this fic](https://uniquelio.tumblr.com/post/178786599710/guys-look-what-anywhere-away-with-you-made-i)   
>  [Story cover](https://uniquelio.tumblr.com/post/178786598255/anywhere-away-with-you-made-the-cover-for-home)

Oliver was happy. He had recently moved into his new home and it was amazing. The whole little town was amazing, he felt extremely happy to be there and it meant the world to him, being able to live on his own without anyone else around him. It was nice, it was strange but it felt right, right for him at least. It was a big step for him, it wasn’t something he was used to and it took him some time to get used to the fact that no one else spoke English there. He felt like a fish out of water and it was hard at first, he had had to learn a whole new language because he wanted to live there, in that little town that had captured his heart. 

Crema wasn’t a big town, it was really small and really comfortable. It felt good to live there, it had been harsh at first but now he referred to that small Italian town as “home”. For the first months it had been a nightmare, he wasn’t used to the new language and no one understood him, he was the only English speaker there. But that didn’t put him off, he had booked himself few Italian classes and now, after four months of living in that place, he could talk and understand what people around him were saying. His pronounce was atrocious but at least he could talk. 

People looked at him strangely sometimes, especially the old ones who didn’t like the fact that an American guy was living there. However, Oliver managed just fine to adjust himself there and to have a nice life, a nice flat and a nice job. He didn’t know why he had decided to open a pizzeria, but he was glad he did that, it was easy money and he was good at making pizza. The young kids liked the American style one, while the adults preferred the typical Italian pizza. Oliver managed to satisfy his costumers and no one ever complained. 

There were a lot of young people there, a lot of kids too, and he was surprised by how easily everyone seemed to know each other, and everyone knew everything about everyone. It was a little scary at first, people talked and talked and they always wanted to fill him in with the newest gossip, even if Oliver didn’t care at all. He wasn’t a fan of rumors, he preferred to stay humble and invisible, he didn’t want to have a bad reputation since he was planning on living in that small town for the rest of his life. 

Oliver had cut ties with his parents and he wasn’t regretting it at all, it wasn’t like he minded not seeing them and not talking to them, after all they threw him out once they found him in bed with his ex-boyfriend. He understood now, he knew that not everyone was supposed to accept him and even if it hurt, it was better in that way. He didn’t have to hide himself anymore and he didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. He had spent his whole youth as someone who wasn’t real and he had had to create a whole new persona. He had had to change his boyfriends’ names and he had had to pay attention to what he said, to use the right pronouns. It had been stressful, but he was finally free to be himself. 

Crema was a nice place and everyone accepted everyone, even the old people liked him and the old ladies liked to treat him as their grandson, cooking him stuff and trying to set him up with the gay boys that lived around. Crema was a little town, but it was close to Milan and to Cremona, which were bigger cities where the queer community was loud and proud. Oliver had found an Arcigay in Cremona and he had to admit that it was the loveliest place he had ever seen. Arcigay had been the first Italian organization for queer people, it was inclusive and it was a safe place for everyone. It had been a nice surprise, Oliver had felt stunned the first time he had seen it. 

Crema was a lovely place, lovely people and lovely environment. Oliver liked his small apartment near the countryside, it wasn’t big but it was enough for him. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom and a lounge that Oliver used as a dining room and studio. It had IKEA’s forniture and it smelled of oranges and caramel, everything was black, white and grey while the walls were a nice and relaxing pale blue. It had took him a long, long time to get his apartment how he wanted, but he managed to create an aesthetically pleasing space for himself. 

Working in a pizzeria was really tiring sometimes, he worked every evening, from 6 pm to 1 am and it was hard, especially when he had to deal with kids. They ordered the worst things possible and it took him a lot of patience to not lash out whenever they made bedroom eyes at him, trying to get into his pants. He was too old for them, and he was really surprised to see fifteen years old girls throw themselves at the first guy they saw. He wasn’t even that special after all, they wanted to get with him just because he was American. 

Oliver liked his new life, even if he was still scared to mess up and to lose what he had managed to achieve. Failure was his worst nightmare and it petrified him, he didn’t want to have to go back to America and tell hims parents that they were right, that he couldn’t live in a foreign country and that he couldn’t get over the fact that he was alone. Guys tried to get to know him, but Oliver was picky when it came to boys, he wanted the best and he didn’t want to get hurt. A lot of guys wanted one night stands and he wasn’t that kind of person, he wanted to fall in love and he wanted to get a stable relationship; it was normal at his age. 

On a rainy Monday, something strange happened in Crema. Adela, an old lady that was always at the local market, told him that Annella’s son was back in town. Adela was a close friend of Mafalda, who worked for Annella Perlman. Annella and Samuel were two lovely people, they had been married for a long time and they travelled the world together. They had lived in Crema until their son was old enough to live in their villa without them, but not alone since he had Mafalda and Anchise around. Oliver had met Annella twice and Samuel once, they spoke a good English but they left few days after he had arrived. 

Oliver went to work without thinking too much about the Perlman’s son, he was sure that he was a kid like everyone else. From what he had heard, he was seventeen and he had just came back from a vacation in France. He studied hard and he was really smart, even if he smoked pot and cigarettes; he had a close group of friends and he didn’t talk much, but he listened a lot. Everyone liked him and Oliver was sure that he was a good kid.

The first hours went fine, he chatted with the local kids and he made a lot of pizzas, sweating behind the granite counter while wiping his hands on his apron. However, suddenly everyone went silent and it took Oliver few minutes to realize that someone had walked in. He eyed Lisa, a young girl that helped him in the pizzeria, and she flashed him a smile before shrugging and going back to the cash register. Oliver looked around and spotted Marzia, an usual client that came to the pizzeria at least once a week, Chiara and a boy. 

He was clearly new and it didn’t take Oliver that much to understand that it was the Perlman’s son. He was tall, skinny and pale, he had curly hair and green eyes, thin lips and pronounced cheekbones, a sharp jawline and a French nose. He was interesting, Oliver thought, he looked like a nice guy who knew what he was doing and who he was. Oliver was more than sure that he was a lovely person, too. Marzia seemed to like him a lot, she had her arms wrapped around the boy’s elbow and her head was really close to his shoulder. 

“Oliver!” Chiara said loudly, resting her hands on the counter. “The usual for me and Marzia, and make a plain one for Elio. Have you met Elio?” Her English was a little broken and her “r”s were too strong, but at least she tried. Oliver shook his head and started to prepare the dough for their pizzas. “Elio, Elio, come here. You have to meet Oliver, he has brought life to Crema again.” 

Elio raised an eyebrow and walked toward Chiara, leaving Marzia behind. He eyed Oliver, his eyes were heavy on him and Oliver could feel his gaze all over his face and his body. He saw Elio lick his lower lip and then he smiled, a little grin on his young face that made his eyes lit up. “Hello, Oliver. I’m Elio Perlman, my mom has told me that you’re American and that you had dinner at the villa.” Elio’s voice wasn’t deep, it was young and soft. 

“I did, yeah. It’s nice to meet you, everyone has said that you were going to come back today. It’s nice to put a face to your name.” Oliver stopped what he was doing, he looked at Elio and eyed Marzia and Chiara for a second. 

“Marzia said that you make the best pizza in town. Judging by how crowded this place was, she must be right.” Elio stated, tilting his head slightly and blinking slowly, his long lashes grazed his cheeks. 

“Judge by yourself.” Oliver smirked when he saw Elio open and close his mouth. They smiled at each other and Elio shook his head, raising his shoulders. “It’s nice to have someone else who speaks English here, by the way.” 

Elio nodded and shrugged. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice to have someone who speaks English here, I can finally practice it.” Elio winked at him and stepped back. “I can’t wait to see if Marzia is right though.” He grabbed two Cokes from the fridge and headed to the small table that Chiara had picked. 

Oliver was speechless, Elio had a really strong personality and he looked a little older. It was hard to believe that he was barely seventeen, he looked young but his mind and his speech was way older. Oliver was truly intrigued by him, he seemed interesting and he was pretty sure that Elio was a nice and funny guy, even if he came off as bossy. He could tell that his parents rarely told him “no” and that he was used to live freely, which was good of course, but it could also be harmful for him. Oliver had seen too many people fall under their own egos, it was a pitiful sight and Elio didn’t deserve to not succeed. 

Oliver busied himself with the pizzas, he tried his best to make them as delicious as possible. He wanted to surprise Elio, he wanted to leave him with his mouth open and his stomach filled, he wanted to see him again in his pizzeria. Marzia and Chiara were chatting with him and they were touching his hair, his arms and his hands, Elio seemed to not mind at all. He was smiling, toying with the hem of his shirt. Oliver couldn’t look through him and that was strange since he could usually read people pretty easily. 

Elio looked at him few times, he didn’t smile nor made a face, he just stared at him for three seconds before popping his lips open and take a little sip of his Coke. He seemed emotionless, almost as cold as ice and Oliver wondered if he was trying to seem more mature or if he was just that bored. 

Oliver brought the pizzas to their table and he felt Elio’s gaze on his hands, on his arms and on his face. He didn’t know why he was staring at him, but he didn’t have time to pay attention to what Elio was doing, he needed to serve other clients and he needed to clean himself up a little bit. Chiara thanked him and touched his hand, flashing him a large and sultry smile, battling her eyelashes and parting her lips slightly. Oliver sighed and smiled at them, excusing himself before leaving their table, he didn’t want to deal with Chiara helpless flirting that day. 

“It was amazing. Marzia was right.” 

Oliver raised his head. He glanced at the clock and then at Elio. “Thanks. May I ask you why you’re still here at 11 pm?” Oliver finished to clean the counter and sighed, wiping the sweat away from his forehead. 

“Just wanted to say thank you for making this place alive again.” Elio shrugged and sighed, stretching his arms above his head. “Plus Marzia wanted to go dancing, but I’m not in the mood, I’m still tired due to the journey.” 

Oliver nodded and looked at him, smiling briefly before resuming his duties. Elio kept staring at him and he licked his lower lip, sighing quietly. “How… how was the journey?” He asked, not knowing if he was supposed to stay quiet or talk. 

Elio smirked and pulled back from the counter. “It was good. I’ll see you around.” Elio waved at him and headed to the door.

“Later.” Oliver called out, busying himself with some cleaning supplies, missing the surprised look he received from Elio.


	2. Chapter two

Elio had just came back from an exhausting trip in France, thus when Marzia came to his place with a big smile on her face and her hands on her hips, Elio hugged her tightly, sighing and enjoying the feeling of familiar arms around his body, still not used to hug her even after what had happened during that winter. They had tried to be together but Elio had soon realized that he wasn’t straight and because of that he had to break up with her. Marzia had always been supportive of him and he appreciated her. 

She talked his ear off about the new hot, American guy that had came in town after May. Marzia said that Chiara was trying to get into his pants but that he wasn’t interested, she also told him that the new guy had already met his parents; Annella seemed to love him and Samuel liked him a lot. Elio felt intrigued, he wanted to know who this guy was and how he had managed to conquer his mother’s heart. It must have been hard. 

Marzia forced him to go to the pizzeria with her and Chiara, Elio wasn’t really up for that but he tried to please his friends, after all they hadn’t seen him in four months and he owed them at least a dinner wherever they pleased. He didn’t want to let them down and hide in his room until school started, and thinking about the fact that he was going to attend his last year of High-School freaked him out. He was still a kid, he wasn’t ready for his finals and his University journey, he didn’t even know what he was going to do. 

Chiara was all dressed up with her makeup neatly done, she was really gorgeous and really pretty, her eyes were popping thanks to the soft shining eyeshadow she had put on. Marzia was Marzia, she was gorgeous without a full face, just a tiny bit of mascara on. Elio complimented them both, he smiled and listened to them chat happily about what they were going to do that night, probably drink and party a little with the older guys. Elio wasn’t up for that, but he stayed quiet and smiled, walking to the new pizzeria with his hands in his pockets. 

Elio had to admit that the local from outside was cute, fresh and young. He liked it and he liked how the outside table had been placed, he liked how the moonlight illuminated the whole patio where the tables where. It was the first time that something like that was seen in Crema, Elio was impressed and surprised by how nice and foreign the pizzeria looked, it wasn’t the typical Italian local. He could tell from a mile away that the owner wasn’t Italian and Elio was intrigued, he was really interested and he wanted to taste what they made. 

Chiara, as soon as they stepped inside, started to flirt with the guy behind the counter. Elio took a quick glance of him, seeing how nice and gentle he seemed from behind the thick glass. Elio felt a little confused at first, he was the hottest man he had ever seen and he was completely covered in flour, few drops of oil on his hands and shirt and sauce on his arms. He seemed so out of place yet so perfect, all dirty and smily, happy to do what he liked. 

Marzia introduced him and Elio had to focus on keeping it cool, on not overreacting or giving himself away. Oliver was his name and it suited him, it was the most typical name for cats and Oliver looked like one, he looked like someone who loved attention but also needed his space, who didn’t want to be touched without asking for it first. He was a complicated person and Elio felt himself being pulled toward him, and he didn’t even know how that was possible since he had just met him. Everyone seemed to love him though. 

Everything about Oliver was unique, Elio soon realized. His pizza was the best one he had ever eaten, his voice was the deepest one he had ever heard, his eyes were the clearest ones he had ever seen. He was gentle, posed and calm with everyone, even when Chiara shamelessly tried to flirt with him, or when Marzia bumped into him while leaving. Elio didn’t know how or why he decided to stay in the pizzeria after his friends left for the disco. 

Oliver was busy with cleaning and Elio couldn’t tear his eyes away from his hands, big and veiny, surely soft and warm. He was curious about what Oliver used to do before being a pizza man, he was curious about his background and what made him leave the States to come into a shitty little town like Crema. He wanted to understand what and why he had left, why he had decided to live in a little place and work in a pizzeria, dealing with a bunch of old people. 

Oliver was unique, even how he dismissed people was different from the usual “goodbye”. It was an irritating “later” that made Elio frown and roll his eyes, it really got on his nerves but he had to admit that it was also hot, intriguing, unique. Oliver pulled him toward his persona, Elio didn’t know why he had decided to wait for him, why had spent two hours outside the pizzeria, smoking and toying with his shoes. He wanted to see Oliver again, he wanted to understand him and get to know him. He really wanted to make Oliver like him. 

The night was always chilly in Crema and Elio was a shivering mess. His light jean jacket wasn’t enough to keep him warm, but he wasn’t going to give up and go back to his empty villa. He was sure that Mafalda would love to hear him talk about France, maybe cook something for him even if he had already eaten. Elio had missed his town and his usual routine, he had missed his life but at the same time he didn’t want to hear Mafalda or Anchise worry about him because his parents left him. Elio didn’t mind at all, he liked to be alone in that huge villa. 

Elio sighed when he saw Oliver walk out of the pizzeria, a smile on his face and a thick bomber jacket on. He knew how to dress properly and that was awesome, Elio couldn’t even put a shirt together without mistaking the colors or without getting a too thick shirt for a sunny day; it wasn’t even funny, just sad and annoying. Elio smoothed his clothes and waved at Oliver, letting his cigarette hang from a corner of his mouth and walking slowly toward him, his hands in his jeans’ pockets. 

Oliver seemed surprised by seeing him there, he was surely not expecting that and Elio was proud of himself for leaving Oliver speechless, maybe happy too? He didn’t know. However Oliver smiled, stopping in front of the closed pizzeria and looking at Elio, making him feel small under that clear gaze that seemed to see right through him. Elio gulped and stood in front of Oliver, few inches away from him, he looked up and curled his fingers in his pockets, almost letting his cigarette drop out of his mouth. 

“Why are you here?” Oliver asked with a calm tone, his eyes on Elio’s and his face unreadable. 

“Why should’t I be here?” Elio asked, his lips curling around the filter. He took a drag of his cigarette and looked at Oliver. “I told you, Marzia and Chiara went dancing and I didn’t feel like doing it. You said it yourself, I’m the only one who speaks English here and I wanted to keep you some company, maybe get to know you since Marzia and Chiara seem to love you.” 

Oliver snorted and took the cigarette from his mouth, taking a drag of it before placing it back between Elio’s lips. “You have a way with words… it’s unique for a young boy like you.” 

“I’m a Classical Gymnasium student, I have to know words.” Elio shrugged and looked at Oliver, trying to look not that impressed with what he had just done. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, embarrass himself and make Oliver think that he was just a kid. “Marzia said you rent the attic near the countryside.” 

“Marzia is correct.” Oliver started walking, not looking back to see if Elio was behind him. He didn’t need to do that, he could hear the boy’s footsteps and his breathing, and how his teeth chattered due to the cold wind. “It’s nothing that fancy, just a nice place for me to rest and live.” He looked up at the sky and let out a sigh. “You own a villa, that must be a lot of work but also a lot of fun.” 

“It gets boring after a little.” Elio popped his lips open twice, feeling the tip of his fingers go numb. “Marzia said that Chiara is trying to make you ask her out. You must feel honored by it, Chiara is the most gorgeous girl of Crema.” 

“I’m not interested and she knows that, but I guess that she likes to think that she has chances.” Oliver took Elio’s cigarette again, taking two drags from it before letting it drop on the ground, stepping on it and keeping on walking. “I’m going to go home. It was a nice chat.” 

Elio stopped, his lips parted and his eyes on Oliver’s figure. He looked stunning under the moonlight, his cheekbones seemed sharper and he looked taller, broader, stronger. Elio wanted to ask him to wait, to talk some more, to stay with him some more, but Oliver seemed so untouchable, so distant, that he kept quiet and smiled, nodding at him and waiting for a sign, a little sign that could allow him to ask- or beg- for Oliver’s company. 

“Later.” 

Again, Elio frowned and stared at Oliver’s back, looking at him walk proudly toward his bicycle. His long legs, his muscular arms and his broad shoulders made him look like a Greek god and Elio was lost, he was completely lost and he didn’t even mind it. Looking at Oliver was like looking into a beautiful book, a book that he couldn’t touch yet; Elio wondered if he could ever touch it, or even graze it with his fingers. 

That night Elio went home with his nose pointed up to the stars, trying to understand what was going on through his head. He was sure that Oliver was a nice guy and he had heard rumors about him being homosexual, but Elio didn’t want to assume anything. He wanted him to be, sure thing, but he also didn’t want to be like Chiara: desperate and pathetic for a little bit of attention. He was better than that. Oliver was cryptic, he didn’t let people in unless he wanted them, he was reserved and charming, yet he pushed people he didn’t want around off. 

Elio had to keep in mind the large age difference, too. Seven years were a lot and he knew that people of Oliver’s age tended to see teenagers like him in a bad way, an immature one. He wasn’t that immature, his parents had made sure of that he was really happy on how he had grown up, but Oliver didn’t know that. Elio was just another teen in Crema and nothing else. He was nothing interesting to Oliver and he didn’t know if that hurt. He was nothing special to Oliver.  

Elio thought about what was going on while sipping a cup of camomile tea. Mafalda had gone to sleep and she had left outside a cake, probably for breakfast, and Elio was hungry and sleepless. He sat down at the counter, letting his legs swing from the stool and taking small sips of the hot tea. His hands were a little numb and his toes were freezing, it was strange since it was only September. Usually Crema would be a little hotter and sunnier, but that day the weather was being funny and Elio didn’t like it at all. 

He thought about his vacation, about the experiences he had had in France, about the quick and frivolous relationship he had had with a nice French boy, sharing kisses under the Tour Eiffel and walking hand in hand through Champs Elysées. It had been nice, it had been pleasurable, but it hadn’t meant anything to him. He had discovered a lot about himself in France and he had let himself go a little crazy, but it had been a pleasurable experience and he didn’t regret it. 

And now he was back and Oliver was in town. Elio didn’t understand why he found him interesting, why he wanted him to like him that bad. He had just met him but he already knew that he was going to gravitate around him like a bee around a flower. Elio wanted to be accepted by Oliver, for some reason he didn’t know his body craved his attention. It was desperate and he knew it, it was a strange thing to do and to admit, but luckily Elio had a nice piece of cake to use to suffocate his doubts.


	3. Chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the new chapter, I hope you'll like it!

Oliver knew that he had to acknowledge the situation between him and Elio. It had been two weeks since the boy had come back from France, and in those two weeks he had been at Oliver’s pizzeria around ten times. He always found excuses on why he was there, spending hours doing nothing but munching on cold slices of plain pizza while drinking Coke or Fanta. It was interesting, Oliver had to admit that, but it was also worrying because he didn’t want Elio to be another Chiara. Even if he wasn’t like that at all. 

Elio always carried a book with him, or music sheets, and he would read and write and smile at whatever was going on through his head. Oliver had never seen a more mature boy, he had never seen someone in America carry a book with them or read music like Elio did. Elio was surely a character, a boy like him couldn’t really be real, he was only seventeen but he was one of the smartest person around. He had overheard Mafalda talk about how smart and nice Elio was, how he always helped her or Anchise around the house. 

Oliver liked to watch him, he liked to stare at him and admire his pale fingers wander through his papers, his pink tongue wet his lower lip when he was trying to concentrate. Everything about Elio was new to Oliver even if he had seen it a hundred of times, he had seen a hundred of long pinkies get caught between soft lips, but Elio’s were new to him and they mesmerized him, they attracted him and he felt his body being drawn toward Elio. 

He couldn’t describe how he felt around Elio because it was something strange and new, it was more than admiration. He admired the young man for being so cultured and educated, but he couldn’t say that he admired him in general. He didn’t know him at all, he didn’t know a thing about Elio, just his name and his surname. He didn’t know who he was, who he truly was, or what he liked to do, what he didn’t like. He couldn’t admire someone who wasn’t in his life at all, they weren’t friends, they barely knew each other and yet Oliver couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

Oliver couldn’t stop thinking about his curly hair, about how his lips curled when he smiled or how his hands gripped the hem of his shirts whenever he was nervous. Elio was pretty, he was something that he had never seen in America and he was really glad to be able to watch him, to observe him. Elio was something else, he was like an adult in an adolescent body, which was a strange thing to say and think. Oliver, though, couldn’t help but see him as someone way much older than he actually was. 

Marzia was Elio’s age and she seemed to be really close to him, which was something that Oliver couldn’t understand. She was a blank person, she wasn’t that interesting and she was a little annoying- not as much as Chiara-, he couldn’t really picture her and Elio hang out together, be together, do stuff together. Or maybe he was just getting jealous without a reason, which was even more disturbing than him not liking Marzia. He didn’t know how or why he ended up disliking Marzia, before meeting Elio he liked her, she was nice and she was funny sometimes. But now he could barely look at her without feeling his stomach knot up. 

Oliver found it hard to work in those days, it was something that used to bring him joy in the past, being able to make happy his costumers, to make them talk and socialize with other people while eating pizza, drinking beer or Coke and talking about “calcio”. Now, though, working meant not being able to sulk over Elio, to lie in bed restless and think, think and think about everything he had left in the States. Oliver didn’t miss what he had left but he missed few of his friends, they always could cheer him and pilot him until he did the right thing. Now, now he was alone and he was barely able to think. 

He thought that being twenty-four meant that he was finally free from his adolescent mind, which obviously was wrong because he was still stuck in that awful loop made of self-doubt and anger. He hated how his mind worked sometimes and he hated how stressful it got. He wasn’t able to do anything but complain and feel like shit for the majority of his day. Maybe he missed the States, he surely missed living there and he surely missed being able to talk with everyone without feeling like a dumb guy trying to impress his crush. He wanted to live in Italy, sure, but maybe he should have taken Italian classes before moving there. Everyone was nice to him but he was still struggling with everything and everyone. 

“Oliver!” 

The local market was a little busy and Oliver was looking at basil, which meant that he almost dropped the plant when he heard someone call his name. He looked around and saw Mafalda waving at him. “Buon giorno Mafalda.” He said politely.

“Elio ha detto che vi siete incontrati.” So Elio apparently talked with Mafalda about everything. Oliver nodded and looked at some red onions. “Perché non vieni a cena da noi uno di questi giorni?” 

Oliver licked his lower lip and smiled at her, admiring the shimmery eyeshadow. “Non vorrei disturbare.” He murmured. 

Mafalda scoffed and shook her head. “Ci vediamo domani sera alla villa.” Mafalda waved again and moved on, leaving Oliver speechless. 

He knew that Mafalda was a bossy woman who didn’t like “no” as an answer, but he surely didn’t expect her to invite him for dinner at the villa the following day. He didn’t know why she had decided to do it, he was sure that she was also going to invite Chiara and Marzia and some other Elio’s friends. Oliver would feel out of place, he didn’t know how he was going to act or what he was going to do. That wasn’t his place. 

Oliver went through his grocery shopping while thinking about why Mafalda felt the need to invite him over. It wasn’t like he had that big relationship with her or Anchise, plus Annella and Samuel weren’t around and he didn’t know anyone there. He couldn’t go there and he couldn’t face a night of loud music, weed and teenagers. He knew that he had to catch Mafalda the following day and tell her that something came up and that he couldn’t attend her dinner anymore, he also knew that she was going to get a little pissed off. 

Oliver stayed inside his pizzeria for the whole afternoon, preparing dough and checking in with his old friends. They all missed him and they told him that the next Summer they were going to attend his ex-girlfriend’s wedding. Apparently she had fallen “in love” with the richest guy of their old campus and she was living her best life. Oliver snorted at that, he always knew that she loved money- and that was why she had agreed on faking a relationship with him- but he could never imagine that she would marry someone just because he was rich. 

They all asked him if he was happy in Italy, some of them were still confused on why he had decided to move away, he couldn’t bring himself to tell them the truth even if he wanted to. No one could find out what a failure he was for his family, no one. He didn’t want anyone else to make him feel invalidated, wrong, dirty. He was comfortable in his own skin for once and he didn’t want to feel threatened anymore. Italy wasn’t the most open minded country, he knew that, but at least no one harassed him. 

Oliver found time to bake two cakes, too, wanting to bring something new into his shop for once. He knew that he had his loyal costumers and he wanted to give them a little treat, nothing special and nothing fancy, just his grandmother’s apple pie. While living in Italy he had tried their typical sweet foods and he had ended up with loving them, having to admit that they were delicious. Mafalda made the best ciambellone ever, he really loved it and more than once she had brought it over for him, saying that it tasted even better if eaten for breakfast with a cup of caffé-latte. 

Suddenly it was time to open and Oliver was already covered in flour and some sugar, too. It took it ten minutes before people started to arrive, ordering this and that and smiling at him. Everyone was really polite and while waiting everyone chatted with everyone, laughing and commenting some news they had read on the newspaper. 

As always, around 8pm Elio arrived. He had some books under his arms and his sunglasses on his head. He looked around and sat down at his usual table, placing everything in front of him and looking through his papers searching something he needed. Oliver stared at him for few minutes, sighing and then going back to work. He knew the routine anyway, and he already knew what Elio wanted. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t already prepared Elio’s pizza, what was left was to cook it and that was going to take him around ten minutes, maybe less. 

“Here.” Oliver said placing the plate in front of Elio, a can of Coke and two napkins. 

“Thanks.” Elio looked up and smiled, brushing some wild curls out of his face, feeling them tickle his forehead. “I didn’t even order but I guess that you already know what I like.” Oliver hummed in agreement and headed back behind the counter. “Mafalda said that you’re going to have dinner with us tomorrow. I hope you won’t mind the fact that it’s just Mafalda, Anchise and I. I’m sure my parents would have loved to be there with us, they always talk about you.” 

Oliver looked up and nodded. “I don’t mind.” He went back to work, leaving Elio confused. 

He knew that he was acting a little strange, and that he wasn’t being very welcoming, but he didn’t want to get Elio’s attention, he needed to keep his distance from him. Elio was only a teenager and he had so much to learn, Oliver couldn’t spend his time going after him, he already had problems and he surely didn’t want more. He had heard some of the teens from Milan talk about “fags”, and it had been unpleasant, worrying too. Elio went to school there, or at least Annella said so, and Oliver didn’t want to put him in danger by being a little too friendly with him. He didn’t want to go to dinner with them because he knew that people were going to talk and assume things, even though there was nothing between him and Elio. 

“I might invite Marzia, too.” Elio said while scribbling down on his papers. “Would you mind?” 

“Why would I?” 

Elio licked his lower lip and scoffed, shaking his head before taking a sip of his Coke. “I’ll ask her, then.” 

Oliver raised an eyebrow at how fast Elio’s mood changed. He sighed and shook his head, deciding to leave him alone and not talk to him until he finished working. It was early September but outside it was a little chilly, schools were about to start soon and Elio seemed unbothered by it. He spent his nights in Oliver’s pizzeria, he spent his last free nights there instead of out with his friends. Sometimes they came to the pizzeria too, they would have dinner together and then they would leave, but Elio would stay. Oliver couldn’t understand him. 

Chiara came by that night and she managed to give him a kiss on the cheek, and at that Elio stood up from his table, looking at her before heading out of the pizzeria. Oliver felt puzzled, confused, sad. He wanted to share his last minutes with Elio, chatting like they always did and then walking together until they reached they bicycles, but apparently he had other plans. Shortly later, Oliver saw Elio get into Marzia’s car, Chiara joined them too, sitting in the backseats. 

Oliver was alone and he closed the pizzeria alone, wondering where Elio was going and why he had left without saying goodbye.


	4. Chapter four

Elio went to a party that night, and he drank a little too much, which led him to make out with Marzia. It had been a drunk mistake and Elio had regretted it as soon as he had pulled back, it wasn’t fair of him to toy with Marzia’s feelings like that. He knew that she still liked him and he knew that she didn’t want to get hurt anymore, he respected that and he could tell that he was stepping in a dangerous zone. If Marzia thought that he was “changing his mind” then she would start hoping for something that couldn’t help at all. 

That night Elio went home with guilt bubbling in his chest. Marzia was drunk out of her mind and he hoped for her to not remember anything the following day, he didn’t want her to believe in something that wasn’t going to happen. Marzia was a good friend, she could understand him and she could see through his bullshit, which was rare because usually people thought that he was just a pretentious guy with a big ego. Marzia saw through his shit and she knew that he was just a scared boy with too much in his hands. 

Waking up with a headache was hard, but waking up with a headache while knowing that he was going to see Oliver that night was even harder. Elio rolled around in bed, he pulled his sheets over his head and groaned, opening his eyes with a grumpy look on his face. Elio wanted to disappear, he didn’t want to see Oliver and he didn’t want to deal with what he had done with Marzia. He was so tired and so angry about last night, he didn’t want to face her and tell her that had been just a drunk mistake. 

Elio got out of bed when Mafalda yelled his name, saying that breakfast was ready and that he couldn’t spend his day in bed. He needed to check his textbooks and he needed to buy some notebooks and new pens, Mafalda told him. Elio grumbled and headed out of his room, a baggy shirt and a pair of blue jeans on, he put on his shoes and rushed down. He kissed Mafalda on the cheek and sat down at the table, starting to eat. 

Morning went by quickly, a fast trip to Cremona to buy three books, a new backpack and pens. He had planned to go to Milan but he didn’t want to take the train, risking on being late due to some delay. Trenitalia had never been the best, and it always caused him some troubles. Elio went to Cremona by bus, a relaxing trip that made his bones go lax and that helped soothe his mind. He liked to travel and he liked to look at the amazing landscape that made everything more interesting. Going to school in Milan was boring, the city was too big and too chaotic, too many tourists and too much nose. Elio liked Milan, he did, but he preferred to stay in Crema. 

While in Cremona, Elio ran into some of his classmates. They chatted about Summer and they asked him how France had been, joking about him having fun with some chicks. Elio laughed and shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking around while praying for everything to end soon. He liked some of his classmates, but the majority of them was awful, they always made awful comments and they always managed to make him feel out of place. 

“Is it true that French girls are easier?” Paolo asked, elbowing Elio with a sly grin. 

“I… no, I don’t know.” Elio forced a smile and looked down at his feet. 

“What? You haven’t fucked anyone there?” Luca let his mouth hang open, a surprised expression on his face. Elio wanted to smack it away. 

“No, I was there to relax and explore.” 

“That’s crazy, if I were you, I’d spend my days with girls.” 

“Yeah but you all know Elio, he keeps his head in his damn books.” Gabriele was the most annoying one, and Elio had forgotten about it during summer. 

“That’s why he’s the best student.” 

Elio stayed quiet, smiling and laughing whenever it was needed. He didn’t like his classmates and he didn’t like how they treated him, almost as if he was a little thing that they could play with. It was humiliating. 

The bus ride was empty, no one went to Crema at 4pm. Elio sat down in a seat next to the window and looked at his hands, thinking about what his classmates had said. He didn’t want to come out mostly because of that, he didn’t want to hear them make jokes about him, he didn’t want to hear them address him as “fag”, “sissy”, he didn’t want to go through anything like that. He wasn’t strong enough, he didn’t want to spend his last year of high school hiding from everyone. He couldn’t do that to himself. 

Elio had heard Chiara talk about the fact that, apparently, Oliver was gay. Elio didn’t understand how he could be so open about that, he couldn’t understand how he could say that freely. Oliver seemed so careless, so ready to let the whole world see him as he truly was. Elio envied him, he envied what he had and he envied who he was. Elio wanted to be like him, he wanted to achieve what Oliver had and he wanted to make his parents proud, too. 

Elio got out of the bus once it arrived back in Crema, he thanked the bus driver and walked back to the villa, looking at the nice flowers that were blooming near the road. Autumn was about to arrive and Elio couldn’t wait to see the leaves turn orange and yellow, he couldn’t wait to feel a soft breeze pass through his clothes during when he took the first bus to Milan every morning at 6:40 am. He couldn’t wait to get back to school and give his last exams. 

Mafalda was busy with cooking and Anchise was fixing the garden’s hose. Elio smiled and asked Mafalda if she needed help, but she told him to go and stay out of the kitchen because if he was there, he would make a mess and ruin all her work. He couldn’t say that she was wrong though, it was better for him to stay out of the kitchen and mind his stuff. He decided to transcript some music, it usually relaxed him and it kept his mind busy, which was needed that day since he was thinking too much about things he didn’t need. 

Elio called his parents that evening, they chatted about their trip and then they asked him if he had met Oliver yet. They talked about him, Annella told him that he would love him, that they would become good friends because Oliver was a smart boy. Samuel told him that Oliver knew more about Philosophy than anyone else, which meant that they would get along pretty well. Elio said that they were right, that indeed Oliver had been nothing but interesting and that he was going to have dinner at their villa that night because Mafalda had invited him over. Samuel laughed and Annella wished him a good evening. 

Elio could see why everyone seemed to love Oliver, he was a charming and he had a way with words that could mesmerize everyone. Whatever he said was like honey dripping right from a hive, it found a way into everyone’s brain and it enchanted whoever decided to pay attention to him. He didn’t do that on purpose, it was his personality that attracted people, it was his indifference that made sure that people gravitated around him, wanting- almost in a challenging way- to get noticed by him. 

Once the sun started to settle, he heard Anchise greet Oliver down in the garden. Elio stood up from his bed and moved to the window, spying on what was happening. Oliver was dressed nicely, a large and baggy pale blue shirt, stonewashed jeans and a pair of Vans on. Elio closed the curtains and headed downstairs before Mafalda had the time to yell at him for being impolite, he didn’t want to get embarrassed. He greeted Oliver by the door, letting him in and forcing himself to stay posed, calm, relaxed, to smile and to show him around a little bit, even if he had been at the villa before. 

They had dinner in the big dining room, it was too dark outside and there were too many mosquitoes for Mafalda’s liking. Oliver didn’t question him about why Marzia wasn’t there, even if Elio had made sure to point out that he was going to invite her. Elio had completely forgotten about calling her and apologizing, which made everything even more frustrating. She was surely going to think that he was being an asshole and that he was confused, that maybe he was thinking about what he was going to do. Perhaps she didn’t even remember that stupid kiss. Elio tried to keep a straight face during the whole dinner, chatting and joking around while keeping his eyes on his plate.

“I wonder why you are so cold today.” 

Elio was outside smoking while Mafalda and Anchise had gone to bed. He felt startled when he noticed that Oliver was still at the villa, and that he was on the balcony with him. He thought he had gone home after dinner, but apparently he had entertained Anchise with some old story from America. He had overheard Mafalda chat with Adela about how much the old man loved Oliver’s tales. 

“I’m not cold, I’m me.” Elio murmured while crushing the cigarette under his foot. “Have you liked tonight’s dinner?” 

“Why wasn’t Marzia here?” 

Elio looked at him and then at his hands. “I forgot to call her.” 

Oliver walked close to him, he rested his elbows on the balustrade and looked down at the garden. “Elio, Elio, Elio… you need to relax more.” He didn’t look at him and Elio wanted to scream on his face to stare at him, to look at his face. “I guess you’ve heard everything about me and that’s why you’re keeping your distance.” 

“Heard about what?” Elio muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“You know it, about me being a homosexual.” Oliver cleared his throat and looked forward, sighing. “I guess you are… uncomfortable around me. I respect that.” 

“I’m not- it’s not that- listen, I don’t care.” Elio couldn’t process the fact that Oliver was so open about himself, that he could say it out loud without feeling bad, wrong. “It’s not my business. I have heard it, yes, everyone is talking about it but I don’t care, honestly. It’s your life.” He wanted so bad to say that he understood him, that they weren’t that different, but he could find the courage to do it. “It’s not like I have something against you, it’s just that…” he didn’t know. He couldn’t find a reasonable reason why he had been acting that coldly with Oliver during dinner. 

Oliver turned his head around, looking at Elio for the first time since he had gotten out there. “Friends?” He extended his hand and waited. 

“Friends.” Elio shook it and left his fingers linger on his skin, he let them feel the softness of his palm, the solid grip of Oliver’s hand on his own. It was bigger than his, it was warmer and steadier than his own. Masculine. He wondered how his fingers would feel on his face, tracing all of his moles until he formed a drawing on his skin by connecting each dot with his finger. “Are you going back to your place?” 

“Anchise asked me to spend the night here because he needs help with something tomorrow morning.” Oliver let go of his hand and turned back to the garden, looking down at it. “Mafalda said you went to Cremona today.” 

“I had to buy some books for school. My Philosophy book arrived.” Elio smiled and moved a little closer to him, wanting to feel Oliver’s warmth touch his body. 

“I have a degree in Philosophy.” 

Elio wanted so bad to say that he knew, that he had tried to get as many information as possible from his parents about him. He knew a lot about him, he knew not that much and he wanted to discover more, to taste what Oliver liked and to comment what he hated. He didn’t want to let him slip out of his fingers, he didn’t want to watch him become someone inside a huge crowd, he wanted to be able to recognize him just by his perfume, by the sound of his steps. Elio wanted to understand Oliver’s mind, he wanted to make him like him. 

Instead, he stayed quiet and smiled at him, nodding. Few minutes later Oliver announced that he was getting tired and that he was going to go to bed. He didn’t wish him a goodnight, he said his usual “later” and headed back inside, leaving Elio on the balcony alone, an almost empty package of cigarettes in his pocket and a broken lighter on the ground. Elio wanted to go back inside too, to spy on him and to see him change clothes, wondering if he slept naked, with just his boxers on or with a shirt, maybe a full pajama. But he stayed outside, letting himself crumble under his remorse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I think I'm going to update more since I've written the first ten chapters already. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and again, sorry for the slow burn. Feedback is always welcome!


	5. Chapter five

It’s easy to like someone but it’s even easier to hate someone. Oliver had to admit that that phrase was accurate when he woke up by the sound of Marzia’s voice, which was coming from the hallway. She was arguing and she sounded sad yet angry. It took Oliver some time before he realized that she was discussing with Elio, who was trying to hush her, telling her to keep her voice low and to not throw a scene. She left after that, telling him to figure himself out and that she was going to see him the following day. 

Oliver rubbed his eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering what time it was and how he was supposed to greet Elio. He didn’t want to make him think that he had heard everything, he didn’t want to embarrass him but, thus he decided to wait a little more and to take his time in dressing up, washing his face and getting ready for the day. He had to help Anchise and after that he was going to go back home, shower and then go to work, ready to face the usual Sunday crowd. He didn’t know how he was going to go through his day without bringing Marzia up, but he was going to try his best. 

When he headed downstairs he met Elio in the kitchen, who was listening to Mafalda complain about him being always late in a thick Milanese accent. Oliver couldn’t understand it yet, but he figured out that she was pissed at him for not being punctual when she had called him for breakfast. Oliver smiled apologetically at Mafalda, excusing himself for being late too, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand, telling him that they were going to have breakfast outside since it was sunny and enjoyable. 

Oliver and Elio sat close to each other, Oliver served himself some coffee and a glass of milk, he took a piece of pie and then some tea biscuits. He wasn’t that hungry but he couldn’t tell that to Mafalda, not wanting to upset her or make her think that he wasn’t appreciating her cooking skills. Elio was moody and Oliver could tell that from a mile away, he understood why and he wanted to do something for him, he couldn’t stand seeing him like that. It hurt to see such a joyful boy become so sad and immersed in his thoughts. 

“I was thinking that we could go to the bookstore after I’m done with Anchise.” Oliver said looking at Elio, a smile on his face, hopeful to get a positive reaction from him. Elio seemed to think for a second before nodding, letting a little smile creep up on his face. “I have to buy a new book.” 

“What book?” Elio said between a sip of tea and bite of his piece of pie. 

“The Eye of the Needle.” Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Elio, admiring how the sunlight played through his curls, making him look even younger. He couldn’t help but think how warm his skin must be, or how the shadow of his own hand would play over his fair skin. 

“I have that book here. You can borrow it.” Elio turned his head toward him and smiled, sipping his coffee while toying with the hem of his shirt. “But we should go anyway to the bookstore because I want to buy Montaigne’s essays.” 

Oliver nodded and stood up, he patted Elio’s shoulder and left, heading to the end of the garden. He gave Elio one last glance before joining Anchise. He didn’t even listen to him, he kind of knew what he was supposed to do and he allowed himself to think about everything else. He liked the idea of going in town with Elio, maybe by foot, and talking to him about everything and nothing at the same time. From what he had heard, Elio was kind of a bookworm and he liked reading “strange” books, old books that the majority of kids his age didn’t even know about. They would have fun at the bookstore. 

Oliver could already imagine the endless conversations about authors, about what they wrote and about their books, their masterpieces. Oliver couldn’t wait, he wanted to get to know Elio’s taste in books and he wanted to share some of his favorites with him, seeking confrontation and opinions from that young mind of his. Elio was seventeen and that meant that he had another vision on the world, even the old one, and Oliver wanted to understand how he saw everything. 

Elio was young, yet he was intelligent and his eyes had seen a lot during those seventeen years of life. He had visited the world, he had gone to other countries and he had compared his lifestyle to different ones, and maybe he had learnt from them. He was sure that from his last trip in France he had carried back something, even the smallest thing possible, but he cherished it in his heart. Elio seemed someone who kept everything for himself, and he kept it in his heart. He thought a lot and Oliver could see his thoughts move through his head, he could see his emotions shift under his skin and that said a lot about Elio. 

Oliver worked with Anchise for an hour and half, cleaning Elio’s bicycle and fixing it a little. He placed his hands on the saddle, touching it and learning how Elio’s bottom fitted on it, smoothing the crease of the leather and smiling at the mental image of Elio pedaling next to him. He didn’t know if he wanted to go to town with him by bicycle or by foot, probably the latter so he could talk to Elio more calmly, more quietly, allowing his mind to memorize how his tongue would curl around certain words and how his body language would talk to him. 

Elio was in the garden, too, under the big trees. He was working on some music, a pair of old looking headphones on and his left hand on his thighs: he was the portrait of perfection. His back was slightly arched, his knees were touching but his calves were separated and his toes were connected. His arms were relaxed just like his shoulders, his head was hanging and some locks of hair were on his forehead, making him look even younger and angelic. The sun was illuminating his back, Oliver was sure that he had chosen that spot because he wanted to stay warm. 

A soft breeze was moving the leaves and Elio’s hair, Oliver stood next to the shed with his eyes on him. He knew that he seemed creepy, he knew that if someone saw how he looked at Elio they would judge him, call him sick and perverted. He was too old for Elio, he was an adult while he was a young boy, too young to understand love. Oliver was sure that Elio had had a lot of quick relationships because that was something that teens did, but he wondered if he had ever felt love, if he had ever thought of someone as the best person he had ever had in his life. He wondered if he stayed awake at night, thinking about his past lovers and asking himself _why_ he had decided to have a relationship with them. 

“Are you done?” Elio asked once he spotted Oliver, standing without doing anything. “If you are, we can go.” 

Oliver nodded and smiled at him, heading toward him and stopping once he reached the wooden table under the tree. “I think we should go by foot, Anchise said that your bicycle is not ready yet.” 

Elio hummed in agreement and rubbed his chin, he took the headphones off and left them on the table, standing up and looking at Oliver with a smile. “Okay, let’s go.” He took his backpack from the table and put it over his shoulder. “I have the book you wanted here, I’ll give it to you before you leave.” 

They started walking and Oliver couldn’t help but stare at how gorgeously Elio carried himself, how he walked and how he stared at everything that surrounded him. Oliver had never been like that during his high school days. He was carefree and stupid, full of himself and filled with pride and too much fear, fear that made him act like a dumb guy. He was always angry and people didn’t like him that much, plus he was hiding his “dirty secret” and that meant that he couldn’t let anyone in, he couldn’t risk it. 

Elio was different and Oliver couldn’t really understand him. He wasn’t like everyone else, he barely knew how he could describe Elio fully. He was outgoing yet reserved, he was timid but not shy, he was open but at the same time he kept his privacy high. He was interesting to look at, Oliver didn’t understand how such a young kid could even be like that, how could he be that mature, that smart. It was probably the Italian air, it had something inside that made everyone- or almost everyone- be better than anyone else. He had never met an Italian person before, but he couldn’t deny the fact that they were welcoming and Elio was no exception. 

The bookstore wasn’t that big, it had a lot of books though and that was the only important thing. Oliver let Elio in first and the two of them started to look at the same aisle, mumbling quietly and pointing out books that they had read, that they liked or hated. Oliver was having fun, he was enjoying all the little things that moved through Elio’s face when he talked about a book he liked, watching how his eyes would lit up at the mention of an author he loved. Book shopping with him was fun, Oliver just listened and listened. 

“I’ve read it.” Elio said when they stopped in front of the English books aisle. He picked out a copy of a collection of Shakespeare sonnets. “I loved them. Some of the last one aren’t that good, but the first part is amazing. It’s mind-blowing.” 

“Shall I compare thee to a Summers day? Thou art more louely and more temperate. Rough windes do shake the darling buds of Maie, and Sommers lease hath all too short a date.” Oliver said with a smile on his face. “One of the most famous one, I know, but it’s charming and it speaks to me a lot.” He said grabbing the book from Elio’s hands. “Old English is tough, but I can’t read the “translated” versions.” 

Elio nodded and moved down the aisle a little more. “I like reading, I’m a big fan of books. I don’t like poetry too much, but I love some of it. Depends on the author. I like novels, I like essays. I like reading in general.” He murmured while touching with the tip of his fingers a Stephen King’s book. “What about you? Dad said that you read a lot of Philosophy books.” 

Oliver stared at him, trying to not think about how natural Elio seemed in the bookstore, almost as if he belonged there. “I read about philosophers, yeah. I like reading poems, I like reading novels, I like reading plays, I like reading in general. I don’t mind as long as the story is good.” 

Elio smiled at him and nodded. “What’s your favorite book, Oliver?” 

The way his mouth pronounced his name, the way his lips and tongue curled around the “r”, how his sly smirk played on his face, everything made Oliver’s skin become electrified. “My favorite… that’s a tough question. I love the Iliad.” 

“I’ve read that, really interesting. How Homer described the war, the relationship between Patroclus and Achilles is something pure, not contaminated by the war. I see why you like that, it shows us a world that we could never imagine.” Elio said before turning around, heading toward the essays aisle. 

Oliver felt speechless. He hadn’t picked the Iliad because of those reasons, but mostly because he had always read that with pleasure. Elio, however, seemed to know more about that book than him, he had talked about it with a posed voice and a relaxed face, showing how comfortable that subject was to him. Oliver didn’t understand how such a young kid could know such an old book, and how he could appreciate it and like it, finding a meaning behind Homer’s words that Oliver had never caught before, leaving him confused yet excited. 

Oliver stayed behind, just looking at Elio for few minutes before joining him again. Elio looked up at him and smiled, moving slightly closer to him before announcing that he was done and that they could go to the cashier. Oliver followed him and after they got out he proposed him to go and have lunch together, getting a positive answer from Elio. He could see how relaxed he was and that was good, the day had started badly for him but maybe it was going to end better. 

They parted around noon, Elio thanked Oliver for keeping him company and Oliver dismissed him with a quiet laugh. It was a pleasure, he said. What he wanted to say was that he would spend hours, days, alone with Elio. He was attracted to him on a spiritual level, he could connect mentally and emotionally with him. They shared a lot, they had a lot in common. 

“Later.” 

Oliver this time meant that, and he put his feelings into that word. It wasn’t a casual “later”, it was a promise. He had promised Elio that later, that night perhaps or the following day, they would meet again and share what they had just shared once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the fifth chapter, I hope you've enjoyed this update. Feedback is always welcome, lots of love and see you all soon!


	6. Chapter six

September was almost over and Elio was back in school. His last year was going to be tough and he could already tell that. It was going to drain him mentally and physically, it was going to be stressful and he didn’t know how he could even think of surviving through it. The air inside his school was heavy and thick, uncomfortable, and Elio knew exactly why. It was the reason behind his hate toward his classmate, toward Crema. 

Some dumb kid from the first year had seen Oliver in Milan with another boy, and they were being _intimate_ \- or at least that was what the kid said. Everyone knew about his homosexuality and it had never been a problem in Crema, but as soon as he was showing it, it started to be unwanted. Elio hated that hypocrisy and he hated liars even more. Oliver hadn’t been intimate with that boy, they were friends and they had met at the Arcigay club in Cremone, they were just friends. 

Oliver didn’t seem to mind, but Elio sure did. He didn’t like how people talked about him and he didn’t like how everyone seemed to pick on him because of his sexuality. Mafalda had told him that he was not supposed to judge him, nor to act differently because his parents would be disappointed in him. Elio wondered if even the other kids had parents like his own, or if they promoted that awful behavior by speaking badly about gay people. Elio had a lot of questions, he wanted to understand what made them say certain things, how they could even think about them. 

He was friends with Oliver and they shared a lot of things, they shared a lot of thoughts and Elio wanted to keep him safe, to keep him under a bubble of safety. He knew that he couldn’t do it, that people were bad and that they were going to face that shit wherever they were, but Elio wished for a better reality. Luckily Oliver’s business hadn’t fallen apart, it was still good and it was still the best pizzeria in town. Elio spent a lot of time there, just chatting with him and studying while sipping a cold Coke or Sprite, listening to Oliver hum to a tune on the radio or talking with him about literature and history. 

People began to talk. And Elio knew it. But they weren’t saying anything bad, nothing that hit too close to home. They were just asking him how he could even look at Oliver without feeling nauseous, knowing that he had touched another man. Elio shrugged, saying that he was a good friend and that they shared a lot of things when it came to knowledge. No one commented further, but Elio could feel everyone’s eyes on him whenever he was spotted with Oliver, whenever they walked from the pizzeria to their bicycle every Friday night. 

Oliver didn’t seem to care anymore, but Elio did. He knew that it was a matter of months, days, before someone picked on him the way they picked on Oliver, calling him with awful names and making him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. He knew that he didn’t have a reason for that, that his parents accepted him and that his friends, the real ones, accepted him, but it still hurt to hear someone call another person “fag” or “sissy”. Oliver was so much more and he wished that everyone knew that, too. 

Elio stayed by himself at school reading during the break and heading home by train, not my bus like everyone else. He didn’t want to meet with his classmates on the way back to Crema, too, he didn’t have the strength to deal with that. More than once he had called Anchise, asking him to pick him up because he wasn’t feeling good or because he had missed the bus and the train; truth be told, he had been just too exhausted. 

His teachers never said anything, they didn’t care because it didn’t happen in school, but Elio knew that they were going to stay by his classmates’ side, even if it was wrong. They considered gay people “ill”, mostly due to the fact that AIDS and HIV were getting more frequent and everyone thought that it was a “gay illness”. If they read journals, they’d know the truth. Elio didn’t blame them, ignorance was a brute beast. Elio knew that Oliver was clean, he could swear to God that he knew that Oliver was clean and that he was a safe guy, more than once he had heard him worry with his friends in the USA about them not using condoms. 

Elio didn’t accept those awful comments about Oliver, he didn’t accept when people called him “freak”, or when they made jokes about him going to rot in hell. Religion was not an excuse for them being homophobic and complete dumbasses. Elio was educated and his parents always made sure to tell him that he couldn’t judge anyone, no matter what. He had grown up in an open environment, in an including one where everyone felt safe. Mafalda was like his second mother and she was the one who had heard the first rumors about Oliver, which had pissed her off a lot. Elio had never seen her that mad. 

“Elio!” 

He raised his head and looked in front of him, smiling. Oliver was waving at him from his bicycle, a big smile on his face and a white shirt on, looking fresh and clean. Elio hurried toward him, his feet were a little unsteady and his knees were wobbling slightly, nervous like always. He didn’t understand yet why he was always jittery around Oliver, why his blood boiled whenever he was around him, why his fingers trembled whenever Oliver smiled at him. Elio didn’t know why he was like that around Oliver, but he didn’t mind nor cared. 

“Elio, how are you? You seem… tired. Is everything okay?” Oliver asked, getting off his bike and looking up and down at him, placing his hands on his shoulders. 

“I’m really tired, yeah. School is hard, my classmates are awful, everything sucks.” He shrugged and looked at Oliver, trying to look at him in the eyes. “How are you?” 

“Good, good. I’ve been to Cremona today, met some friends, had some pot. It was good.” Oliver looked down at him and kept his eyes on his face, making Elio blush slightly. “You don’t look so good, are you sure that you’re okay?” Elio opened his mouth to answer, but instead he just shook his head. “Elio, is it about those things? Again?” 

“I hate hearing them, I don’t like when they speak about gay people like that. It’s inhuman.” 

“I know, but I don’t care and it doesn’t concern you. Thanks for caring, but don’t give them the satisfaction of hurting someone.” Oliver tightened his grip on his shoulders and smiled. 

It does concern me, Elio wanted to say. It did concern him, he was gay too but he was too scared to even think about it, let alone say it out loud. However, Elio nodded and looked up at Oliver, forcing a smile and clearing his throat. Oliver let go of his shoulders and Elio frowned, missing his warm touch already. He was always hungry for Oliver’s touch, he always wanted his hands on him and he wanted to feel that broad palm caress his skin, gripping it and making it flush and rosy. He wondered if Oliver would ever get to touch him, to press his hands on his bare skin. 

Oliver headed to the pizzeria and since it was already Friday, he could spend his afternoon with Oliver. He was going to study while Oliver prepared the tables, cleaned what needed to be cleaned and fixed few things. Elio trotted behind him, letting his arms swing behind his body, he hit his Invicta’s backpack and his Latin dictionary suddenly felt heavy on his shoulders. Oliver looked behind at him and smiled, opening the pizzeria and letting Elio in first. 

Elio studied History and Art History while Oliver checked everything, and Elio also looked at him a little bit once he was done. He was admiring his blond hair, his strong jaw and his clear eyes, how the muscles of his arms moved whenever he did something. Oliver was huge, he was really muscled man and he had amazing hands, he was gentle though and he was the sweetest man Elio had ever met. He was really happy when he was around Oliver, he had a joyful personality and he was amazing, even if he was reserved and it took a lot of time and patience to read him. 

Oliver had a quick salad before starting to work and Elio frowned, wanting to ask him why he didn’t eat pizza since he made it, but he stayed quiet and rubbed his eyes sleepily. He was tired, he was a little sleepy too but he didn’t want to leave, he wanted to last until Oliver closed the pizzeria, maybe drink a beer or two. He smiled at Oliver when he winked at him playfully, he pulled his sleeves up and hummed quietly to himself, letting Elio admire how his skin glowed under the artificial light, a warm undertone made it look healthy. 

“Why do you like hanging out with me?” Oliver asked when he closed the pizzeria. 

It had been a long night, an extreme busy one. Elio had stayed at his table nursing three beers and few glasses of wine that Marzia had brought over to celebrate Chiara’s new boyfriend. Elio had drunk a little bit, he was tipsy but not drunk, and he was smiling, blowing hot hair on the tip of his fingers. Oliver looked over at him and Elio smiled, he rubbed his chin with his hands and yawned, mumbling sleepily and scratching his cheek lazily. 

“Why… Because you’re nice, and you’re intelligent and we share a lot of things. I can talk to you about a lot of things, cultural things and stupid things. I like the fact that you never ask me anything, but at the same time you know everything just by looking at me.” Elio mumbled before rubbing his eyes again. “I guess that you’re like my best friend. Marzia is… she’s close to that, but she can’t really understand my books references or my comments about History and Philosophy.” 

Oliver nodded and smiled at him. “I have friends back in the USA, you know that. I can’t compare them to you, you’re something else. I like having you around.” 

Elio looked up at him, fidgeting with his hands before deciding to just stop being so posed, so calm, so dull and plain. He smiled, a big and happy smile, at Oliver, he touched his arm and squeezed it gently, enjoying Oliver’s skin under his hand. It was toned, it was firm and Elio let his fingertips caress it. He smiled again and let go of his arm, sighing and yawning quietly. He was happy and tipsy, he could still feel wine on his lips and he knew that his breath smelled like alcohol. Oliver didn’t even seem to mind or to notice. 

“Go to bed, Elio.” Oliver’s voice was gentle and sweet. “You’re sleeping on your feet.” 

“I know, but I don’t want to go. I’m having fun.” Elio protested quietly, tilting his head slightly. “But I guess I’ll go so you can go home and sleep, too. Why don’t you come over tomorrow? We can have lunch together, Mafalda says that she never sees you around and she’s worried.” 

Oliver sighed and then nodded. “Fine, now go.” 

Elio smiled and stepped back, rubbing the back of his head with a kind smile. He nodded and started to walk back home, hands in his pockets and his nose pointed to the stars. He wasn’t that happy nor that sad, he was excited to meet him again the following day. He liked to be around Oliver and he had never hidden it, at the same time he also knew that it was pathetic how much he wanted Oliver to like him. They were similar but at the same time Oliver was much older than him, he was more mature and really attractive. He could have everyone yet he liked to be around Elio like a sweet perfume. 

Mafalda was already asleep and Anchise was probably sleeping, too. Elio tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake them up and have Mafalda scold him for being that late again, it wasn’t like it was crazy late, just past 11pm. Elio went to his room and closed the door, he put his pajama pants on and then went into bed, dragging the duvet above his head with a loud sigh. He was tired and he was about to pass out of exhaustion. 

Oliver put on his best long-sleeved shirt, wanting to look good for that lunch at the villa. He had washed his hair, combed them and tried to put them in a nice way, not wanting to look like someone who had tried too hard to impress someone. He wanted to look good, sure, but he didn’t want to seem like he was considering that lunch like a date. It was not a date, it was a lunch between friends in a big villa, with tasty food and nice wine. Elio was surely going to talk about Philosophy, about History, about literature. Oliver liked it, he did like when Elio came to him to chat about what he liked, but he didn’t like having whole conversations about that stuff all the times. He wanted to have more with Elio, he wanted to know him better. 

He took the bicycle to get to the villa, enjoying the cold breeze on his face and on his skin. He could already picture Elio’s smile, he could already see him stand in the middle of the garden with his white Converse and a pair of jeans on, beautiful and fresh like always. He was waiting, wanting, to see him, he wanted to watch him and explore him with his eyes. He knew that they couldn’t do anything, he knew that they couldn’t even be friends without raising doubts, but he wanted so bad to get his hands on Elio. 

In the past months he had developed a sense of protection toward him, he had started to like him physically and not just mentally, Elio was stunning. He liked how his curls bounced on his face, he liked how his skin glowed under natural light, he liked his green eyes and his pretty nose, pointed and typically French, which made his lips even more intriguing. His mind was something else and Oliver thought that maybe, just maybe, he had started to like Elio because of the way he thought. He was everything he had ever wanted in a partner- mentally speaking. 

Oliver put his bicycle next to the fence and headed to the front door, Anchise was in the garden and Oliver greeted him, a big smile on his face. He didn’t even have the time to knock before Elio opened the door for him, letting him inside and making his Converse squeak on the floor. Oliver eyed him and he just felt, sensed, that something was off. He didn’t know what had happened during the night and the early morning, but Elio’s mood was down, really down, and he was confused. He didn’t even look at Oliver, he almost avoided him. 

Mafalda was in the kitchen and Oliver stopped by to thank her and to chat with her a little. He tried to investigate on why Elio was sad, and it took it less than three minutes before Mafalda talked. Apparently Elio had gone to Cremona that morning because she needed olive oil, he had met some of his classmates and they had asked him why he spent time with Oliver. Elio had gotten upset after they asked him if he was secretly gay, or if Oliver was almost blackmailing him or forcing him. Mafalda knew that there were rumors about the two of them, but he never thought that someone would actually say those things in Elio’s face. 

At lunch Oliver sat close to Elio, but the boy seemed cold toward him, he kept his distance from him and Oliver had to admit that he was hurt by what was happening. He wanted to help him, he wanted to stop ruining his life and he knew that the only thing that he was supposed to do was leaving Elio alone. Oliver promised to himself that he was going to stop hanging with Elio, that he would stop being around him and keeping him close to him, he wanted to make him have a better life. Oliver knew that it was going to be tough, after all he liked Elio and he liked to be around him, but he could go through some pain if it meant that Elio was going to get his life back. 

Oliver thanked Mafalda for the lunch and then stood up from his seat, saying that he needed to go back home and check on few things he left unattended. Mafalda protested and Anchise wished him good luck, Elio just looked at him and sighed, offering to open the door for him. He walked in front of Oliver, he didn’t turn around not even once and Oliver knew that stop seeing him was the right thing to do. That time, when Oliver stepped out of the house he didn’t say “later”, he opted for a quick and cold “bye” that made Elio’s face get paler. They didn’t say anything else, Oliver walked away and Elio stared at his back. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, here's another chapter, I hope you've enjoyed it! Feedback is always welcome, as always


	7. Chapter 7

October rolled around and Oliver stopped going to the villa, Elio kept trying to visit the pizzeria but Oliver didn’t pay attention to him, barely spoke to him. Oliver knew that Marzia thought that he had started to hate Elio for some reason, everyone commented on how distant Oliver suddenly was. The only positive part was that Elio had a normal life again, or at least Oliver thought so. He never saw him around Crema, but he had heard from Marzia that he was busy with studying and that had a lot to do before his parents came back for Hanukkah. 

Chiara was back at full force, she was trying to get with Oliver again and he was pissed off, he didn’t know how he was supposed to even tell her that he didn’t even like her as a person. His mind was still focused on Elio, he was still thinking about him even if he knew that he had done the right thing. Elio was always on his mind, he was his constant thought and he was going mad over the idea of not being able to see him again. He had thought that being away from him wouldn’t hurt that bad, but he was wrong. It was atrocious, it was the worst thing he had ever done to himself and Oliver regretted what he had done sometimes. 

Oliver managed to meet Mafalda in town once or twice at the local market, she always filled him in with what was going on at the villa, she didn’t even know that Oliver and Elio weren’t that close anymore, she thought that they were just being humble. She liked to talk about Elio, she bragged about good he was doing in school and how proud Samuel was of him for applying to a university. Mafalda was the only person that seemed to not understand what was going on. 

Owning a pizzeria meant that people were always there, thus when Oliver spotted Elio standing near the doorway, he wasn’t that surprised. He had heard Marzia talk about a party and he suspected that Elio was there to buy food for that party, not that Oliver minded. It was good to see him again, he looked better than before, still the usual Elio but more mature, more serious; Oliver wondered if it was his fault. Elio looked at him straight in the eyes, he held his gaze and Oliver found himself uncomfortable under that piercing glare, almost as if Elio was accusing him of something just by looking at him. 

Oliver waited for Elio to say something but he just stared at him, standing by the doorframe. Oliver wanted to understand what he wanted, he wanted to say hi to him and ask him how he was. They hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, he had missed him and he knew that it hadn’t been easy for him nor for Elio, but his life was better now and he wasn’t associated with a gay man anymore. He didn’t understand how Elio’s mind worked sometimes, he didn’t understand why he was there and why he was looking at him almost as if he had let him down. 

Elio stayed at the pizzeria until Oliver served the last costumer, then he headed to the counter and put his hands on it, his bracelets hit the marble and Oliver’s eyes fell on his bony wrists, on his fingers and on how he seemed to grip the cuffs of his sleeves. Oliver licked his lower lip and looked at his face, watching him frown and watching his cheeks heat up under his eyes. Oliver found it strange yet heart-warming, Elio was still the same and he was even more beautiful than he remembered. Oliver asked himself how he could move on from such a fair beauty. 

“Can I talk to you?” Elio murmured. 

“Sure, anything in particular?” Oliver asked, trying to be calm and posed, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to him. 

“How did you tell people that you’re gay?” Elio mumbled out, his fingers started to tap on the counter, his nails made a soft sound that Oliver couldn’t help but focus on. 

“Why are you asking me?” Oliver did know, but he wanted to hear it from Elio’s mouth, he wanted him to come clean and to reveal himself to Oliver fully. 

“Because… you know why.” 

“I really don’t.” 

“Don’t make me say it.” 

“If you can’t say it, then you’re not even ready to learn how to do it.” Elio frowned again and rubbed his eyes, sighing and looking down at his hands. Oliver could see it in his eyes, in his movements, in his heart, that Elio really wanted to come free, to open up. “This is not the right place nor the right time, you need to understand when you’re ready. Right now, you aren’t.” 

“I am!” Elio protested, his young side came out and Oliver just smiled, because he could do nothing else. “I am ready. It’s just scary.” 

Oliver sighed and shrugged. “You have nothing to prove to me. I don’t even understand why you came to me.” 

“Because I trust you.” Elio looked at him and held Oliver’s look. He took a deep breath, Oliver could tell that he was nervous and he could see his eyes water slightly, making him feel bad for acting almost as if he didn’t care. “Because I wanted to talk to you. Because you deserve to know.” 

Oliver rubbed his face and took off his apron, shoving it under the counter. “This is not the right place to talk about this thing.”

“Come to the villa.” 

Oliver found it difficult to say no to Elio, thus he just nodded. They went to the villa with their bicycles, Elio in front and Oliver behind him. He had a million thoughts in his head and he couldn’t move between them without getting hurt, it was a challenging experience and Oliver had never been in that position before, he had never witnessed someone come out. Elio seemed determined into doing it, Oliver admired that, but he also saw fear in his eyes and that meant that he was ready, but he was also scared to rush things. 

Oliver hoped that while their ride to the villa Elio had thought about what he was going to do, if he really wanted to do it. Oliver was still surprised to have him next to himself again, he was still thinking that being around Elio was bad for his reputation and he would clear it with him, or at least he wanted to. He knew that Elio would crumble after opening up, he knew that he would have to pick him up piece after piece and put him back together. Elio was precious, young and still fresh, a lot more would change in the future and Oliver didn’t want to see his future ruined.

Elio got out of bicycle and walked slowly into the villa, Oliver followed him and shoved his hands into his pockets, eyeing him. Elio was almost shivering and Oliver could see his knees wobble slightly, scared about what was going to happen. Oliver wanted to touch him, comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he didn’t need to worry about a thing and that he would never leave his side. Those seven years of difference were being useful, he could help Elio a little and he could maybe give him advices, wanting to make him happy and feel him safe. He knew that his parents would be okay with it, but society was the real problem. 

Elio headed upstairs to his room and Oliver followed him without saying a word. He had been into Elio’s room twice and when the door opened, he took a deep breath. Everything smelled like Elio, there were his school books on the desk near the window, his favorite books were on few shelves and his backpack was on the ground, shirts and socks were lying on the bed. Elio hurried to put his clothes away and then sat down on the bed, looking up at Oliver and waiting, maybe searching the right words or maybe just waiting for Oliver to speak. 

Oliver rested his back against a wall and looked down at him, he tried to look at him and understand what was going through his brain, but he couldn’t see through his face. Elio was looking straight in front of him, his eyes unfocused and his hands in his lap, tired, worried, Oliver didn’t feel pity toward him, he felt sadness and empathy. He had been there, he had felt what Elio was feeling and he knew how hard it was to find to the right words. Sometimes he didn’t even need to talk, just to act, but Elio was Elio and maybe he preferred to open up verbally. Oliver wondered if he was going to say it out loud, or if he was going to find other things to say to make the “pill” more pleasurable. Oliver was curious, but he didn’t want to rush Elio into talking if he didn’t feel like doing it. He was fine with waiting until he was ready. 

“I thought you knew.” Elio said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought you knew.” 

Oliver looked at him and shrugged. “I didn’t. I only thought you were you. I don’t like assuming things. What was I even supposed to know?” 

“You know what I’m talking about.” Elio raised his head, his hands on his lap were now toying with each other. 

“I do now.” Oliver said pushing himself off from the wall, standing right in front of Elio. “I never actually told anyone, my parents found it out. I never say it, even now, I only speak of myself as a “male lover”, I’m not used to say that I’m gay. It sounds like an insult sometimes.” Oliver looked at Elio, he looked at how his shoulders relaxed. “You need to know that it will be hard, it is hard. There’s prejudice, there’s sadness and pain, there’s stuff that you need to be prepared to face. You can’t hide once you’re out, you can’t pretend to ignore what people say.” 

“How do you cope?” Elio rubbed his face and stood up. 

“I work, I keep myself busy.” Oliver stayed where he was, he didn’t want to make Elio feel pressured, he didn’t want to make him go back into his hiding spot. “You need to understand that being us, being like us, is hard and it will take you a lot of strength. You have to be ready. You fell apart because of some rumors, that’s why I think that you’re not ready.” 

Elio let his arms swing slowly next to him, his eyes on Oliver and his gaze almost absent. “I’m sorry for what people say about you.” He murmured, his hands twitched and his fingers curled. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I should even have you here.” 

“That’s why I stopped hanging out with you.” 

“I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Oliver smiled and shook his head. He had distanced himself from Elio in an important time of his life, he had almost left him by himself and he felt bad for doing that. Elio was offering him a way back into his life and Oliver decided to take it, to get back with him and stay next to him through this rough path. Facing realty with someone like you is easier, Oliver would never leave him again and he promised himself that, he promised himself to help Elio when he needed it. Oliver knew that he was playing with fire, that he was going to get burnt once Elio got in a relationship, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be selfish in that moment. 

Elio stepped closer, his hands rested on Oliver’s biceps and he took a deep breath, looking up at him before rubbing his eyes. “Will you stay here tonight?” He asked quietly, his voice soft and trembling. 

“Do you want me to?” Oliver stared at him and glanced down at his hands and then at his face, watching the tip of Elio’s ears turn pink. 

Elio’s bed was soft, Oliver didn’t know how he could have such an amazing mattress and pillows. His sheets smelled like lavender and he knew that Mafalda had used her favorite softener, too. Elio had his head on his shoulder and his eyes were closed, he had dragged the duvet above his shoulder and he was barely listening to what Oliver was reading- a pass from Montaigne’s essay about friendship. Oliver doubted he was even listening to him, he looked almost asleep and he was about to pass out on his shoulder. 

He was hurting his own feelings and Oliver knew that, being too close- especially like that- with Elio was dangerous and he knew that, but he couldn’t push him away and he couldn’t have him run away or hide again. He had promised himself that he was going to be there for Elio no matter what, he didn’t care about his feelings, he didn’t care as long as Elio was happy, even if it meant that he had to hurt a little bit. 

Elio fell asleep before he could finish reading the essay, he let out little snores and he had wrapped himself around Oliver’s arm, his head on his shoulder and his curls tickling his neck. Oliver dared to brush some of them away from his forehead and Elio grumbled, scrunching up his nose and dragging his legs close to his body. Oliver sighed and turned the light off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know, ten days without uploading. Sorry guys, I had been busy studying and I couldn't find the right time to update this fic. I've almost finished writing it, I need to add some final touches and then it's done. I was wondering about a new fic, maybe charmie this time? Would you like to read a multi-chaptered one about them? Idk yet. Tell me your ideas or what you'd like to see in a charmie fic, I take commissions now!   
> Anyway, I promise I'll update sooner next time. Feedback is always welcome, love you all!


	8. Chapter eight

Things went back to normal after that night. Elio started to hang out with Oliver again and people started to talk again, but they were quickly shut down by Oliver or Mafalda. Elio went through with his life normally, he was happy and he was studying hard to pursue his career without letting anyone between him and what he wanted. Elio was sure that people were going to talk shit about him anyway, there was no point in talking about stuff that didn’t really concern him. He knew that people were going to speak, to make him feel bad for who he was and what he wanted. He was not out yet, and he didn’t want to out himself while in high-school. 

Oliver was helpful, he was amazing. He was always by his side and he never left him, he was never alone and he never told him to do something that would put him under pressure. Oliver was pure, he was always ready to step up for him and more than once they had gotten high together, sharing stories and anecdotes about them being gay. Oliver had so much to say and to teach to Elio, yet he always acted like a friend and not like someone who had to teach him something. It was amazing, it was good, it felt like he finally had someone who understood him. 

Elio also knew that good times weren’t supposed to last, he knew that people would get worse and that only managed to make his worries grow bigger, louder. He was angry at how people managed to change his mood so drastically, how they managed to make a decent day become Hell on earth. It was awful, it was heart-breaking, it was something that Elio hated. School had always been his happy place, it had always been his safe space where he could have fun and learn what he really liked and what made his life less ugly. 

“I truly believe you are gay.” Enrico said while shaking his head with a grin. “I mean, you spend time with that American fag, you never have girls around you, you look like a fag, too.” 

Elio raised an eyebrow and sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I just don’t want to waste my days with girls. I want to… apply in school, I want to get out of here with a good score.” 

Everyone laughed. “A little fag.” Danilo said before shaking his head, making the others cheer around him. “I hate how you’re not even trying to defend yourself, it’s like you don’t care. How sad.” Danilo continued, looking at him with his hands on his hips. “Elio Perlman, the little faggot of Crema.” 

“Does the American guy even fuck you? I bet he does.” 

“Must be dirty, they’re all sick.” 

Elio stood up from his desk and looked at Danilo, then at Enrico. “I’m not gay.” He said while gritting his teeth. 

It hurt to say those words, to say that he was someone that he totally wasn’t. It hurt to even think about it, it was ugly and it was the stupidest thing he had ever done. He regretted doing it, he regretted even thinking about him being straight, it felt like he was betraying Oliver’s trust. He was out and proud, Elio was hiding in shame. It was awful, it was the most humiliating thing Elio had ever done to himself. He wondered how he could even face the rest of the day without cringing about what he was going to say to Oliver that day. 

They were going to meet outside Elio’s school because he had finally got a car and an Italian license. It was good, especially because he could finally drive Elio around, saving him from the busy afternoon train or bus rides. Oliver was really sweet and he always offered him a safe space at his apartment, saying that Elio was always welcome there, that he could crash there without asking him first. 

Elio was starting to like Oliver a little too much, he was really into him and he wished he had the courage to tell that to Oliver, he really wanted to come clean. His little crush soon became a huge crush, and then he realized that he was starting to fall in love with him. Oliver was the most precious man he had ever seen, he soon realized that he couldn’t stop thinking about what they could have if Elio dared to speak his mind. He didn’t know if Oliver was into him, mixed signals weren’t very helpful, Elio had to admit that. 

The final bell rang and Elio got out of the class with his head down, his eyes on the floor and his backpack in his hand. He was on the verge of tears just by thinking about what he had to say, it hurt mentally and physically, neglecting his mind to be free was pure abuse and he didn’t want that. He was better than that. He knew that people were going to talk about his outburst, about how he had reacted to those accusations, but Elio didn’t care, he was too confused and too tired to deal with that stuff. He only wanted to get home and get into bed, letting go and have a good cry. 

Elio headed out of the school gates and spotted Oliver’s car, a black Fiat that was way too shiny and clean even for Oliver. He must have washed it. Elio hurried to the vehicle and shoved his backpack into the passenger seats, slamming it shut and sitting down in the front seats. Oliver eyed him but he didn’t talk, he didn’t dare to ask him what was wrong, he already knew what happened. It wasn’t the first time that someone made Elio upset by calling him with homophobic slurs, but Oliver had never witnessed it in person. 

Enrico was pointing at them and Danilo was laughing, his damaged teeth showed out, yellow due to the amount of cigarettes he smoked. It was sad. Elio didn’t look at them but Oliver did, watching how a simple action could ruin someone’s life for a long time. Elio was sensitive, he was too sweet to deal with life and he was way too young to have to deal with that shit. Yet, he faced that life everyday and didn’t seem impressed by what was happening, or maybe he was just forcing himself into a box again. 

Oliver started to drive and Elio just looked out of the window, his head on the glass and his hands in his lap. He was thinking about how he could face things, how he was even supposed to ignore determined comments when his chest ached whenever he tried to move on, to forget how disgusted everyone seemed by the idea of two men being in love with each other. He knew that he would have to deal with that shit for a long time but he didn’t want to think about it yet. He was young, he had a lot to live and he couldn’t think about the possibility of him being confined into a society that didn’t allow him to be happy. 

“We’re not at the villa.” Elio stated once he recognized the countryside of Crema. “Why are we going to your place?” 

“I thought you might prefer that.” 

“You thought the wrong thing.” Elio spat out, his sudden anger confused him, leaving Oliver with a sour expression on his face. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” 

“Mafalda said that she had to visit her sister and Anchise is still in Cremona.”

“I’m not a kid.” 

“No one said that.” 

Elio sighed and folded his arms above his chest, he couldn’t deal with Oliver’s personality in that moment, it was too much even for him. He stared out of the window and let out a sigh, shaking his head before opening the passenger door, stepping out and looking up at Oliver’s flat. He wasn’t excited about staying with him for few hours, he had so much stuff going on that he didn’t want to make everything worse by being there, he didn’t want to cry in front of Oliver and make a fool of himself. He was tired, he was sad, he wanted to sleep and have Mafalda’s hot tea. 

Oliver didn’t seem to notice though and that only managed to piss Elio off. He was supposed to ask him if something was wrong, he was supposed to bring him back to the villa. He was supposed to understand him but apparently Oliver wasn’t like that, he was too busy with worrying about other things. Elio was kind of sad about it, he thought that Oliver knew how to take him, and figuring out that he was wrong was hurting him, it was tough to deal with that knowledge. Elio wanted to Oliver in, sure, but he also wanted privacy and in that moment he didn’t want to be around Oliver for the whole afternoon. 

Elio liked the comfort of Oliver’s place, it was small and warm, it smelled like vanilla and whenever he was there Oliver would smoke some pot, making the sweet vanilla scent mix with the strong weed’s one. It was nice, Elio liked how he could relax when he was there and when he was smoking with Oliver he could let go, have fun, chat about everything he liked. It was something that he didn’t get to do when he was at the villa, not having his parents around was kind of tough, it was stressful and it was sad, he usually talked to his mother or father without worrying about being judged. And now he could do that only with Oliver. 

“Feel free to do what you want.” Oliver said, his car keys on the kitchen table and his jacket on a chair. 

“I want to go to bed.” Elio murmured. He wasn’t tired, he wasn’t sleepy, he just missed being in bed and the comfort of thick sheets around his shoulders. 

Oliver hummed and shrugged, allowing him to do what he wanted. Elio was a little confused by how Oliver let him free to be himself even if he was at his place, even if he was going to take his bed and sleep there. He didn’t seem to mind, so Elio took that opportunity. He had never slept in Oliver’s bed, he had never even touched it and he had been to his place many times. He had seen it, but he had never touched the velvety sheet, the soft pillows and the smooth duvet. Everything smelled of Oliver, everything had his scent on it and Elio couldn’t help but press his nose on the pillow, breathing in and breathing out. 

He fell asleep before he could even process what he was doing, he fell asleep with his face hidden under the blankets and duvet, cocooned into a safe embrace. It felt good and Elio couldn’t fight the tears that came out of his eyes once he woke up, he couldn’t stop himself from crying while thinking about what had happened, about how those slurs made him feel. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it hurt even if he was trying his best to shake those comments off. It was too much to deal with, the idea of living his life hidden behind a mask was unbearable but the idea of living a life constantly in danger was ever worse. 

The bed dipped and Elio held his breath, he should have known it. Oliver took the blankets away from his head, making the hot tears dry fast on his reddened face. They looked at each other and Elio could see how worried Oliver was, he could see it behind his eyes and he could see how angry he was. Yet he stayed calm, a hand raised midair and his eyes fixed on his face, Elio was feeling naked and vulnerable. 

Oliver didn’t speak, he stayed where he was without moving and it took Elio few minutes before sitting up, his head down, ashamed. Oliver’s hand came to rest on his cheeks and he forced Elio to raise his face, a frown on his face. Elio tried to stop crying, he really did and he wanted to look mature to him, but he was failing and he broke down again. Oliver dared to let his hands rest on his neck, his thumbs on his jawline and his other fingers on his face, caressing his smooth skin and tracing his little moles. Elio calmed down after few minutes, his eyes were heavy and they were burning, he had his hands on Oliver’s forearms and he was gripping them like his life depended from that. Oliver didn’t say anything, he just looked at him and stroked his cheeks and his neck, rubbing soothingly his scalp too. 

“Hold me.” Elio sniffed, bending down and pressing his head on Oliver’s chest. 

They lay down, Oliver behind him and Elio looking at the wall next to the bed. They didn’t talk, they didn’t need to. Oliver was fine with comforting him and Elio was fine with having Oliver’s chest pressed on his back. He didn’t want to sleep and he didn’t do that, he let his nerves calm down and he let Oliver’s left hand rest on his stomach while his right arm was under Elio’s head, supporting it. Elio knew that things were going to change, that barriers had been destroyed, but he wasn’t scared anymore, he could face it if it meant that Oliver was going to comfort him and cocoon him like that, making him feel like he was lying on cotton. Elio liked to be held by Oliver, he liked how nicely they fitted together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! Heck yes, I finished writing this story and I'm starting to write a Charmie one, actually two Charmie fics, and I'm so excited to post them in the near future!   
> I hope you guys liked this chapter, see you soon


	9. Chapter nine

Oliver knew that he was supposed to get to know what was going on through Elio’s life, he knew that he was suffering even if he tried to act “cool”. He had missed two weeks of school in a month and it was starting to worry both him and Mafalda, his grades were still up but he wasn’t doing that good anymore. He attended classes just when he had a test and then nothing, he wasted his days at the villa, reading maybe. Oliver visited him through the day, he kept him company and listened to him practice the piano, but whenever he tried to touch the school subject Elio would shy away and stop communicating. 

It was exhausting. It was ugly and he was already tired of avoiding that topic with Elio, he could see how he was dealing badly with the aftermath of their action. However more than once Oliver got to hold Elio again, feeling him curl around his body while seeking warmth and love, protection. Oliver was there, he always was and Elio knew that he could trust him, that he would catch him if he was about to fall. Oliver kept Elio safe from everybody and he knew that sometimes he came off as rude, but he wanted to keep Elio away from people that didn’t deserve him. 

Oliver was at the villa quite often, he was constantly hanging out in Elio’s room even if he was studying or sleeping, Oliver never left him. He would go away when he needed to work, but then he would be back the following day. Elio liked that, he liked that aspect of him because it made him feel important, and he told that to Oliver once. Oliver understood why he liked to please Elio, and he also understood that he was going to catch even deeper feelings for him if he didn’t put a barrier between them, but he couldn’t do that, not when Elio needed him. 

It often happened that they got close to the breaking point, maybe because of too much alcohol or maybe because Elio got too close, but Oliver found it difficult for himself to keep his hands away. He knew how Elio’s body worked, he knew how to please him and how to calm him, he now wanted to know how to make him excited, needy, wanting. He wanted Elio to want him. It was a sick thought, sometimes he wondered if he was actually in love with Elio or if he just wanted him for his pure and marvelous body. The answer came always quickly, whenever Elio laughed or smiled Oliver would feel his heart swell with love. 

Oliver was sad, he was tired and he was behind nervous about everything that was going through his life. He wanted Elio to like him, sure, but he also wanted to get some peace finally, he deserved it and he didn’t want to be stuck in a limbo where he didn’t know where he stood and what he was to Elio. He knew that people talked shit about them but he couldn’t trust them over something like Elio’s feelings, they were too important to be taken for granted. Oliver wanted to know if there was a chance between him and Elio, or if his hopes were going to crash and disappear. 

Oliver worked for the whole day and he managed to keep his head clean and free, filled with positive thoughts and nice things. He knew that he was going to face Elio that night and he also knew that he was going to spend the night at the villa because Elio had asked him to. It was okay, it was fine, he didn’t mind. He wanted to spend his night with Elio because he knew that he was going to have fun, chat and talk about stupid things, then serious things and then about nothing while stroking Elio’s arm before going to bed. They usually shared the bed and Oliver was okay with that, he liked when Elio’s back was pressed against his chest. 

Mafalda came to visit him while he was working and she told him that she was going to visit her sister in Milan, thus she wouldn’t be able to prepare them breakfast the following day, but she had left them pie. Oliver thanked her and wished her a good and joyful journey, Mafalda smiled and then headed out, leaving Oliver with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Shortly later Elio arrived, too, he claimed his usual seat and waited patiently for Oliver to get done with his day. He liked to have Elio around, but it was difficult to keep a straight face while they kept eyeing each other, smiling. Oliver wanted to just touch him, kiss him and whisper how good he looked when he was tired and a little sleepy. 

They went to the villa with Oliver’s car, Elio turned the heater on and he hummed quietly, letting out a soft breath. Oliver asked him about school and Elio changed subject, saying that nothing interesting had happened in that week, that he had studied and read the books Oliver had suggested him. He wanted to discuss few poems with Oliver that night, and Oliver agreed on that, wanting to hear if he had liked the poems, if he had felt something while reading him of if he had been disgusted by what he had read. 

“I want to understand why you suggest me Neruda. I mean, he’s great, I like what he wrote, but why him and why that book and that specific poem?” Elio asked while lying on top of his bed, an arm under his head. 

“I thought you knew why.” Oliver said looking at him, a hand on his own chest. “I believed you knew that he’s one of the best poets our or time.” 

Elio scoffed and rolled closer to him, resting his chin on his hands while lying on his stomach. “I liked it, few of them were amazing. Thank you for suggesting that book to me.” 

Oliver nodded and looked at the ceiling. “I’ve met one of your classmates this night. They asked me if I knew why you haven’t been to school since last week.” Oliver knew that bringing that subject up would make Elio upset and he also knew that he was going to shut down and stay quiet. 

Elio shrugged and looked at the wall behind his bed, he licked his lower lip and moved his leg over Oliver’s, his knee bumped into his and he shoved his foot under Oliver’s left calf. He didn’t speak and Oliver just stared at the ceiling, allowing Elio to move around as much as he wanted, without pushing the argument into him and without demanding answers. Elio turned around and looked at him, he had his lower lip lightly wet due to the constant biting and licking and his cheeks were slightly rosy, almost puffy. He was beautiful and Oliver had to bite his inner cheek to keep quiet, to not comment on how his brown locks reminded him of caramel due to the moonlight; he just smiled. 

“I don’t see the point in attending classes when I can just go when I have tests. I can study at home.” Elio shrugged and rubbed his forehead, his eyes landed on Oliver’s face and he licked his lower lip. “I don’t care, my grades are still good.” 

Oliver sighed and shook his head. “Running away from things won’t make them disappear.” Elio looked at him with a cold stare and Oliver held it, almost challenging him. Elio parted his lips to say something, but then he closed them again, letting his head drop down. “You’re responsible and mature, you can handle something like that. If you’re not able to face some dumb comment about me or you, then you’ll never be able to fight for yourself in the future.” 

“Things are broken, Oliver. They’re not working anymore and I can’t deal with them.” 

“They have broken yes, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t fix them. If you try hard enough, you can fix them. It takes time, it takes passion, it takes a lot, but it pays back. It always does.” Oliver patted his back and smiled at him. “You’re amazing and you can try to make everything go back to normal and leave it broken, or move on and fix it.” 

Elio seemed to think about it, Oliver just waited. He waited for Elio to speak, to let him in into his brain, to allow him to understand what he was doing but he stayed quiet. He moved after few minutes, lying down next to Oliver and lying his head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest and his legs tangled around Oliver’s, his toes were rubbing Oliver’s in a soothing way. Oliver didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he let his body communicate while he hugged Elio with an arm, while he put his left hand on his hip. They were awake and they were aware of the fact that they were playing with fire, that they were heading into a dangerous zone. 

Oliver felt Elio’s body shiver, he twitched slightly and inched closer to him, almost lying on him. Personal space was something that Oliver pretended in his daily life, but when it came to Elio, everything was okay, he just wanted, craved, him closer and closer. His body was warm and hot, it smelled like shampoo and cologne, his hair was soft and his hands were not too big, long fingers and large palms. Oliver liked to feel his breath on his skin, he liked to feel his heartbeat and he liked to listen to his soft snores whenever they ended up sleeping in the same bed. 

“Oliver.” Elio whispered, his fingers gripped his t-shirt and he raised his head. “Why did you ask me to read _that_ poem?” 

“I thought you knew.” Oliver looked at him and his hand held his hip tighter. “It was time to come clean, I guess.” 

Elio swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and Oliver’s eyes fell on it. “I thought I was misjudging your signals.” He murmured, his voice barely audible and his hands now on Oliver’s chest. “I thought you didn’t care. I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Oliver shook his head and grabbed both Elio’s hand with his right one. “Are you telling me what I think?” 

“What are you thinking about?” Elio moved closer, his forehead was almost resting on Oliver’s and his hands were now gripping the collar of his t-shirt, almost angrily. 

“Nothing.” 

“Liar.” 

“I guess I am.” Elio let out a soft laugh at Oliver’s words, letting go of his collar and sitting up. “What about you, what’s in your mind?” Oliver focused on Elio, watching his slender legs tense up when he stood up from the bed. 

“A lot of things.” Elio rested his back on the wall, his arms crossed and his head down. “Why have you never told me?” 

“I could ask you the same.” Oliver mimicked Elio and stood up, mirroring him. He didn’t hesitate this time, he touched Elio, he traced the line of his neck and he gripped his hair, but he didn’t pull it. “We’re tiptoeing around again.” 

Oliver followed his instincts and hugged Elio, he pulled him close to his body and he touched him. He touched his back, he touched his thighs, he touched his neck, everything, gripping the skin and pressing his fingers into it, watching how Elio arched in his touch. His right arm wrapped around Elio’s middle and his other hand went to his hair, he pulled and made Elio bend his head back, exposing his neck and submitting to Oliver’s hands. He stared, just stared, at the pale flesh now slightly red, he stared at Elio’s blissful face and he stared at the hollow of his throat. He felt Elio’s hands in his hair, he felt him pull it and demand attention while pressing himself closer to him. 

Elio was almost trying to fuse himself into Oliver’s body, he had his arms around his shoulders and his legs were trying to use something, anything, as a step that could make him wrap his legs around Oliver. He tugged at Oliver’s jeans with his toes and his elbows dug into Oliver’s shoulders, pulling him down to Elio’s level. They stared at each other and Oliver let go of him, pulling back and staring at him. He wanted to see if Elio wanted the same thing, he wanted to see Elio wanting him and he wanted to see him as helpless as he was. 

Oliver took Elio’s hand in his own and he watched Elio step closer and closer until they were hugging again, this time Elio’s hands were under Oliver’s t-shirt and he was touching his skin, he was toying with his hair on his chest and he was pressing his forehead on his shoulder, breathing deeply and almost rasping for air. Oliver breathed in through his nose and he inched toward the bed, dragging Elio with him and gripping his hips with his hands. They weren’t talking and they didn’t need to, they just wanted to feel each other and they wanted to communicate through their bodies, sharing warmth and touching their vibrating skins. 

“Oliver…” Elio whispered in his ear, his nose rubbed his cheekbone and he bit gently and then kissed his cheek. “Oliver…” he repeated. 

“Elio, Elio, Elio.” Oliver held his face between his hands and smoothed his thumb over his lower lip, pulling it down slowly and watching the tip of his tongue peak through his white teeth. Oliver tilted his head slightly and looked at him in the eyes. “Elio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again, new chapter yay! Anyway, if anyone's interested I've started to make edits about CMBYN on my Tumblr, so if idk if you want to check them out it'd be great! I promise, it's nothing too crazy.  
> Anyway, I hope you've liked this new chapter!


	10. Chapter ten

They kept whispering their names back and forth, their hands kept exploring each other and the more Oliver touched Elio’s face, the more they wanted to kiss. Elio made the first move, he grumbled under his breath and held Oliver’s face between his hands, he looked at him for few seconds before he kissed him. Slow, passionate, trembling lips connected and Elio’s shoulders relaxed, his eyes were closed and his hands were in Oliver’s hair, pulling him closer while trying to climb into his arms. Oliver was kissing him back and Elio wanted more, he just wanted more and more from him, he couldn’t have enough. 

His lips were soft, his hands were holding his hips gently and his chest was pressed on his own, connecting their hearts. Elio dug his nails in Oliver’s scalp, he pulled his head back and left a soft trail of kisses down his neck, savoring the sweet taste of his skin. Oliver was trembling like a leaf, maybe in fear maybe in pleasure, and Elio gently pushed him toward the bed, wanting nothing but touch and kiss and feel and explore. He wanted Oliver to want him as bad as he wanted him, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, he couldn’t stop his body from wanting something that had haunted his dreams for months. 

Oliver was giving everything he had to him and Elio appreciated that, he wanted everything and he wanted to give Oliver everything, too. He looked at him, he looked at his slightly hooded eyes, at his parted lips and rosy cheeks, he looked at his flushed ears and neck, touching every inch of that warm skin with the tip of his fingers, admiring how Oliver reacted. He was the one conducting the game, he was the one who decided how fast things were going to go, and Oliver was okay with that, he was giving himself to him and he was trusting him. It was the biggest and best gift Elio had ever received from life. 

Elio was lying on Oliver’s chest, he had a hand above his heart and his forehead was resting on Oliver’s. He kissed him once, twice, a hundred times until he could map his lips with closed eyes. Languid kisses soon became hot and needy ones, soft touches of their tongues led them to make out feverishly, curious hands under clothes and legs parted, allowing each other to slide over their bodies in a slow motion. Oliver was quiet but his body was talking to Elio, he was allowing him to see in his most private moment and Elio couldn’t help but feel honored, special. 

“Elio.” Oliver whispered when he bit his neck, wanting to leave a mark, wanting to show the world, almost in an animalistic way, that he had conquered Oliver. 

In that moment Elio feared that Oliver wanted to stop, that he wanted to shove everything way and to forget, saying that it had been a mistake. Elio’s body shook in fear and he grabbed Oliver’s chin, holding it between his fingers tightly, pulling Oliver’s face closer to him and staring into his eyes. They were dark, his pupils were larger than usual and the calm, posed blue was now a tumultuous sea of emotions. Elio thumbed his lower lip and pulled it down, mimicking what Oliver had done to him before. He couldn’t run away, he couldn’t leave Elio like that. 

“You’ll kill if you stop.” Elio murmured, his lips brushing his own thumb. “You’ll kill me if you stop.” He repeated those words while looking directly into Oliver’s eyes. 

Oliver caressed his cheek and nodded. He kissed him again and this time Elio allowed him to take control, he relaxed and rolled on his back, Oliver on top of him between his parted legs. They were both on the edge of losing their minds, they were both craving more and Elio just took it. He pulled at Oliver’s t-shirt until it came off, revealing a toned and waxed chest that Elio immediately touched, feeling the muscles move under his fingers. He had never seen such a beautiful man in his life, he had never seen a more perfect Greek god. He had had quick things with French boys but Oliver was more physical, more masculine and more present. Elio prodded himself on his elbows and let his eyes linger on the tan skin, watching Oliver smile at him with that half crooked smile of his that made Elio’s back shiver. 

Oliver undressed him slowly, he ran his hands over his slim and thin body and Elio shivered, arching into his touch and looking for more. He was going to die if Oliver didn’t do something, anything. He wanted his mouth on his hot and tight skin, he wanted his fingers to make it turn rouge and tender, he wanted Oliver to break him and then put him back together. He wanted to feel him all over his body and then into him, he wanted to just have him, have him all for himself and keep him in that position forever. It wasn’t his first time with a man, but it was the first time he had ever felt the need to have someone. 

“Oliver…” Elio murmured once he was only wearing his boxers. “Look at me.” He placed a hand on his cheek and parted his legs, allowing him to see how hard he was. “Look at what you’re doing to me.” He whispered while contracting his pelvis’ muscles. 

Oliver studied his body and then took Elio’s hands in his own, he brought it to his crotch and left it there, letting Elio touch the result of their actions. He didn’t say anything and Elio started to palm him slowly, rubbing his thumb over the tip for few seconds before he decided that he wanted more. He lifted his hips and shook them slightly, Oliver gripped his underwear and pulled it down in a fluid motion, gripping his asscheeks and bringing Elio closer to him, leaving marks with his nails on his skin. 

Elio curled his toes when Oliver’s erection rubbed on his perineum, the cloth of his boxers was uncomfortable and he wanted to feel him and see him, he didn’t want him to shy away and hide under a thin pair of boxers. He pressed the heel of his feet on Oliver’s back and thrust down, rubbing his ass on Oliver’s erection, and for the first time Oliver made a sound, a guttural moan that shook Elio’s bones. 

Oliver undressed and Elio placed a hand on his body, he looked at him and watched the little moles around his crotch, he watched how his cock twitched due to the cold air of the room and he watched the muscles of his thighs flex. He gripped Oliver’s shoulders and pulled him down, his legs curled around his body and their erections touched, sending jolts of pleasure down Elio’s back. He parted his lips and closed his eyes, he had never felt so much pleasure in his whole life. Oliver kissed him and Elio tugged at his hair, arching his back until their chests came in contact. 

Elio held Oliver’s face between his hands and kissed his upper lip with a smug smile, rubbing his face with the tip of his fingers. He was amazed by how good he was looking, by how young and desperate he seemed, that only managed to make Elio want to move faster and faster, to get Oliver worked up and to have him kiss him until he couldn’t breathe anymore. He was going crazy just by kissing him, he felt like he was on acid and high at the same time. He wondered if Oliver felt the same way, perhaps yes judging by how he was rubbing himself on Elio. 

“Elio, my Elio.” Oliver whispered in his ear, making him shiver and grip his shoulders. “You should see what I’m seeing right now, it’s ethereal.” 

Elio licked his lower lip and swallowed hard, smiling up at Oliver before caressing his cheek with his thumb. “I want more, please.” His voice was trembling and he hated it, he didn’t want Oliver to think that he was unsure of what he was doing. He knew what he was going to do, he knew what was going to happen and he was more than okay with it, he wanted everything from Oliver. “Please.” 

Elio soon realized that Oliver was passionate when he touched someone, his hands were big and strong but he touched Elio like he was a precious piece of china and his fingers liked to map every little mole on Elio’s skin, making him crave his touch all over his body. Oliver’s skin was tan and the contrast between the two of them made Elio’s erection twitch, desperate for attention from those strong and big hands. Oliver liked to touch his neck and Elio soon noticed that when he felt his thumb trace the same pattern again and again, going from his jaw to the hollow of his throat, followed by a trail of kisses that made Elio’s mouth part. Oliver liked to worship his body and Elio felt like a god. 

Elio parted his legs more and thrust his hips up, feeling Oliver’s cock bump into his own and slide over his slick stomach. They were sweating, panting and their breaths were almost like one, fused together. Elio let Oliver pick him up and almost make him sit up, his hands went to the nightstand and he pulled the first drawer open, tossing Oliver a bottle of lube and a condom, already tired of tiptoeing around. He wanted Oliver’s body and he wanted it in that moment, he was tired of waiting and he just wanted to feel satisfied and complete. 

Oliver didn’t waste time and Elio kept his eyes on him, watching his skilled finger touch and tease his body, making him pant and moan, trashing in bed when he applied a small amount of pressure on his perineum while his index and middle finger were pressing on his prostate. Oliver surely knew how to make someone enjoy sex and Elio wondered how many people he had made happy, he had made orgasm. Elio had paid attention to the people he was fucking, he usually cared about the pleasure, but with Oliver he couldn’t stop himself from touching him as well, teasing his nipples with his nails. 

Oliver didn’t ask, he never did, and Elio almost screamed. He hadn’t had sex in a while and Oliver, even if gentle and delicate as a leaf, was still rather thick and it challenged Elio’s self-control. He found himself into Oliver’s arms, his cheek on his shoulder and his nails in his back, panting on his already moist skin while his body twitched and contracted around Oliver’s erection. Elio felt like a rag doll when Oliver started a slow, deep pace, filling him to the core and making his eyelids drop closed. Oliver wasn’t vocal, but his breath was fast and it crashed against Elio’s lips whenever they kissed, because Oliver kissed during sex. 

Elio wasn’t used to such gentle touches and sweet words, he wasn’t used to be treated that nicely from someone and he had never heard someone call him an angel. He had never felt his chest swell up because someone looked at him in the eyes and he had never expected to feel his legs go numb because of sex. He wasn’t used to all that kindness and he wasn’t used to what Oliver was, he wasn’t used to have his body turned inside out by a simple kiss on the lips. Yet, Oliver had him in his hands and he was treating him like a treasure. Elio orgasmed when Oliver whispered, over and over again, how much he liked his body. 

It was over too soon. Elio felt empty once Oliver pulled out of him, completely drenched in sweat and a panting mess, his cupid bow damp with saliva. Elio lay down next to him, his head on Oliver’s arm and his legs intertwined, toes toying with each other and hands touching their flushed bodies. Elio was naked and so was Oliver, but they were comfortable and the thick scent of sex almost worked as a blanket. It was true, sex had a smell and Elio already liked it, because it was a mixture of him and Oliver and pine. He wanted to start again, but he knew that they couldn’t stay awake for the whole night. 

Oliver was staring into his eyes, lying on his side and facing Elio. They kissed tiredly and Elio rubbed his nose on Oliver’s stubble, mouthing and his cheek and dragging his lower lip over his skin. Oliver held his face with his hand and the other one came to rest in his hair, caressing his scalp and making Elio close his eyes. Oliver turned his face slightly and kissed Elio’s cheek, making him smile and dig his nails into his pectorals. He pulled back and rested his head back on Oliver’s arm, staring directly into his eyes. 

“Call me by your name and I’ll call you by mine.” Oliver whispered, voice tired and thick with emotions and sleep. 

Elio frowned slightly before smiling, resting his finger on Oliver’s lips. “Elio.” He murmured tentatively. 

“Oliver.” He smiled, a big, lustful smile that made Elio arch into his touch. 

“Elio.” He repeated, his hand scrambled to Oliver’s face and he gripped his chin, pulling his face closer. “Elio.” 

“Oliver.” He kissed him and his teeth pulled on his bottom lip, making Elio roll on top of him. “Oliver, Oliver.” He said again and again, feeling Elio’s hands in his hair, on his shoulders, on his chest. 

“Elio, Elio, Elio.” 

It started again, this time Elio was on top and he directed everything, taking Oliver as deep as he wanted and letting himself go, slipping away and collapsing into his arms. He had never felt so needy in his whole life, he had never craved someone’s mouth or touch, he had never worried about making the other enjoy sex, too. He was a selfish person but not with Oliver, because Oliver gave him everything he had and Elio wanted to do the same. He had never thought about having that kind of bond with someone during his life, yet he was now connected on every level with Oliver and he was still wanting more. 

Oliver was sweeter than before when he came, he didn’t thrust his hips up or pinned Elio down on his body, he stayed still and closed his eyes, tightening his grip on Elio’s hips and letting out a quiet moan, murmuring his name and making Elio hiccup in pleasure, allowing his body to fall into Oliver’s chest and come while still high and floating away. Elio came with a loud cry, still sensitive from the first orgasm. He rested his cheek on Oliver’s chest and raised his hips slightly, Oliver slipped out of him and soon his arms hugged him, making him close his eyes and let out a long sigh. 

“We made noise.” Elio whispered with his nose tucked under Oliver’s chin, breathing in his scent. 

“We’re alone, it’s fine.” Oliver was caressing his spine and his ankles were resting over Elio’s.

Elio closed his eyes and shuddered, hands clutching at Oliver’s arms. “I don’t want this to end.” 

“What, this night or us?” 

“Everything.” He was almost asleep but he wanted to stay awake, to keep making love to Oliver, change position and take Oliver, and then repeat everything from the start. 

Oliver didn’t answer, he just pulled the covers over Elio’s body and kissed his forehead, sighing and hugging him tighter, protectively. He stayed awake while Elio slowly fell asleep, he kept thinking about how their lives were going to change drastically and he felt a shiver of fear run down his back. He wasn’t regretting what he had done, never, but he was scared about the future. He didn’t know how society was going to evolve but he knew that they had to keep their relationship hidden, almost as if it was a dirty secret. It was like being Jewish- which they were- and it meant that they were going to face the world one day without being labelled as “faggots”. Oliver could wait his whole life for that moment, he wanted to be able to live openly and happily, hopefully with Elio by his side. He wanted a better world for Elio, he wanted a better realty for him and the next generation. 

Elio stirred in his sleep and curled closer to Oliver, his lips parted and his hands on Oliver’s chest. Oliver held his breath and looked at the ceiling, allowing himself to let out all his worries and troubles, crying silently and gripping Elio’s shoulders gently without waking him. Crying was therapeutic sometimes, and he hadn’t cried in a long time, it felt good to let out all the tension from that night, it felt good to lift a weight off his chest. He was free to face the future more openly now, more calmly, he was ready to deal with whatever the future wanted to throw at him. Crying was therapeutic and he never felt ashamed for crying, even if he was a man. 

Elio mumbled and rolled on top of Oliver completely, his face under his chin and his left leg between Oliver’s. His slow breathing soon lulled Oliver into a deep slumber, too. He didn’t dream that night, he didn’t woke up in the middle of the night without a reason, he snored a little and ended up with a hand on Elio’s ass during the night. Neither Elio nor Oliver woke up in a different mood, they didn’t face regret nor worries, they just faced each other and smiled sleepily, their forehead touching and their fingers already on their faces, tracing the last signs of sleep on their skin, watching their morning expressions and kissing sleepily, happy, satisfied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY


	11. Chapter Eleven

Once Oliver walked out of the Perlman’s villa, he could already tell that he was going to face problems, a lot of them. Elio had been honest with him that morning and he had told him that he knew what they had done that night, and that he was okay with it but he didn’t want to risk it and play the cute couple out in public. Times were already hard for the two of them and they didn’t need to face more problems just because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, and Oliver respected that, he just wanted Elio by his side and he could have him as Elio pleased. He didn’t want to rush him into a public relationship. 

Things got more difficult though. Elio was constantly with Oliver whenever he could and Oliver spent a lot of time at the villa, reading and drinking hot milk with honey while Elio played the piano for him. Mafalda liked to cook for the two of them and she didn’t seem to notice the gentle touches that Oliver placed over Elio’s head or over his hand, fingers brushing his knuckles or his wrists in a silent promise. Elio sat closer to Oliver during dinner, he served him food or helped him with his eggs whenever Oliver messed up. Small things that never happened between them and Oliver knew that they were playing a dangerous game, but he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out toward Elio whenever he was around. 

Elio went out with his friends few times and Oliver waited for him at the pizzeria, leaving the doors open and allowing him to slip inside when he got back from the disco. It was a silent agreement that they had made once they realized, which had happened pretty soon, that they were a thing, that they couldn’t fool around with other people, not that they wanted to. Elio was loyal and Oliver was surprised by how dedicated he was to his relationships, he put everything he had into them and he never let Oliver doubt him, not even once. He liked dancing and Marzia always dragged him around whenever she went to discos or parties, Oliver couldn’t be jealous. 

Elio was happy and he always told that to Oliver whenever they were together. Oliver liked to kiss his forehead and brush his finger on his upper lip, watching how Elio always closed his eyes and smiled happily, tilting his head with a kind smile. Elio wrapped his arms around his neck and smooched him, as he liked to say. They were starting to build a relationship and Oliver wanted it to work, he wanted everything to be okay and he wanted to support Elio through life, but at the same time he knew that they couldn’t avoid the public eye much longer. 

It all went down one day, at Elio’s school. Months had passed and they were closer and closer to Elio’s graduation. He went back to school regularly and he stopped not attending classes, incited by Oliver’s words and promises. Elio was doing amazing again, he was the best student of the course but at the same time the other guys stopped talking with him, voices about him and Oliver had started to circulate again and this time they were worse than before. 

A case of AIDS had happened in Crema and everyone started to eye Oliver differently, and they did the same to Elio, yet no one dared to say a word and they still frequented his pizzeria. Oliver could stand the idea of everyone not liking him, but Elio didn’t accept the idea of being seen as “dirty”. He was safe and so was Oliver, they were always hyperaware of the fact that AIDS was spreading around like air and it happened not only to gay people, but to straight people too. The news said that it could be transmitted by blood, so they recommended people to not share needles or razors. However pretty much everyone still believed that it only affected gay people. 

Everyone talked about AIDS and it soon arrived into schools, too. Discussion rose up easily and the teacher encouraged the argument to keep going, making Elio uncomfortable. He got caught up into a heated fight with one of his classmate when he said that _someone_ in their class was surely going to get it, too. Elio stood up for himself, saying that he wasn’t a drug addicted and he didn’t share razors, avoiding the “gay topic”. The discussion didn’t quiet down, it kept going and going and Elio had to bite his tongue once or twice to stop himself from lashing out. Luca, unfortunately, teased him again about him and his boyfriend being sick, and Elio bursted. 

The end of the school day arrived rather quickly and Elio’s head was still hurting from all the screaming and shouting of that morning. He rarely raised his voice, he didn’t like to make a scene, but Luca brought out the worst from him. Elio was supposed to go back to Crema by bus but he decided to take the train to Cremona, wanting to spend some time all by himself, alone. He knew that he was also supposed to meet Oliver that afternoon, but he didn’t feel like facing him yet, he didn’t want him to worry about him like he always did. 

Elio decided to check out the Arcigay in Cremona, Oliver always said positive things about it and he said that they also provided mental support to people with AIDS. It was well made and Elio found it easily, hosted in a circolo in the back. The room where the reunions took place was rather big and he found a pamphlet with the time and the week schedule for the meetings. Sadly, that day, nothing was programmed but Elio decided that he was going to attend the next conference, wanting to learn more about his community.  
Oliver was active, he spent time with other queer people and he always tried to help everyone at the Arcigay, but Elio preferred to stay low. He cared deeply about the LGBT community but he wasn’t out like Oliver and if someone saw him interacting with more queer people, rumors were going to start again and he couldn’t let that happen, not when his parents were due to come back from their world trip in less than a month. He knew that would have not problems with his sexuality, but he wasn’t ready yet. He wanted to wait, he wanted to understand if he could ease them into the idea of him being gay slowly, leaving clues around thoughtfully. 

Elio arrived back in Crema when the sun was setting, making the sky almost pink and orange, beautiful and clear. He walked slowly, hands in his pockets, and he thought about what he was going to do, what he was going to say. He had took his whole afternoon for himself, he had cleared his mind a little and he had been able to focus on himself, thinking about what he was going to do in the future. He knew that he would always face comments like the one Luca had made, but was he strong enough to face them? He didn’t know that, he didn’t know if he could accept the idea of people not liking him, defining him dirty only because he was gay. 

He approached the villa and he smiled at Anchise, nodding when he said that Mafalda was making dinner for them. Elio walked into the villa and greeted Mafalda, kissing her cheek and hugging her tight, seeking the motherly warmth that she radiated. She caressed his cheeks and patted them before telling him to take his time while dinner was being made, stroking his shoulders with her skinny and bony hands. Elio headed to his room and closed the door, letting himself fall onto the bed with a sigh, curling on the spot where Oliver slept whenever he came over. He eyed the phone on his nightstand, sighing and grabbing it. 

He dialed Oliver’s number and bit the tip of his tongue, letting his head hang down. He knew that he was going to face questions, maybe anger or disappointment, and he didn’t want to hear Oliver speak to him in that way, making him feel almost guilty. He didn’t want to explain why he had left him that day without an explanation, he didn’t want to tell him that he had had to listen to Luca’s comments. He didn’t want to tell him that there were rumors about the two of them again. 

“Pronto?” 

Oliver’s broken Italian had never sounded more heartwarming for Elio. “It’s me.” 

“Elio.” Oliver’s voice sounded calm, almost empty. “I see you’re back to the villa.” 

“I am, yes. I wanted to… to apologize for leaving you alone today. I should have called.” Elio said, toying with the cord of the phone. “Mafalda is making dinner, there’s an hour before it’s ready, do you- why don’t you come over?” 

“I’m busy with work, another time.” Oliver sighed and Elio frowned, biting his lower lip and rubbing his forehead. “I’ll see you around, Elio.” 

“Elio, Elio, Elio…” He whispered, curling under the blanket and pressing his nose on the pillow. “Come over, please. Tonight, after work. Come over and make love to me, Elio.” 

Oliver sighed again and Elio could hear him move, he could hear the shuffling of his clothes. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise you anything.” 

“Then I’ll come there.” Elio whispered, dragging the pillow between his legs, hugging it with and arm. “I want to see you, want to touch you.” 

“We could have done it this afternoon.” Oliver’s voice wasn’t scolding nor harsh, it was just a statement. 

“I had to take time for myself, clear my head.” Elio had promised to himself to not talk to Oliver about what had happened that day, but he couldn’t stand the idea of him being angry or of him feeling sad because he had left him alone, without giving him an explanation. “Things happened, I had to sit down and think. I should have called you but…” 

“It’s fine. I’ll see what I can do.” Oliver’s voice was softer than before and he almost sounded like he was actually thinking about meeting Elio that night. “Eat, and get some sleep.” 

The rest of the evening went by too slowly, Elio got into a conversation with Mafalda and he called his parents, filling them in with what happened during the week and what had happened that day. He informed them about the rumors about him and Oliver and his father stayed silent until the end of the call, where he told him that it was fine, that nor him or his mother minded if those rumors were true. Elio almost broke down at that, he didn’t speak but nodded as if he’s dad could see him. Samuel assured him that they would come back by the end of May and Elio wished them a good journey to Porto. 

Mafalda and Anchise went to sleep but Elio stayed up, sitting on the balcony and smoking Oliver’s favorite cigarettes. It was slightly warm again and he could just wear a light sweater over a shirt- Oliver’s shirt. His toes were numb because he was barefoot but he didn’t mind, the soft April breeze made his shoulders relax and his hair, which was longer than before and curlier, moved slowly. Elio was waiting for Oliver, not knowing if he was going to come or not, but he wanted to be hopeful and he wanted to wait, to allow him back into the villa and slip into his arms, letting Oliver’s warmth fill his body and bones. He was just too tired, though, he felt like he was going to fall asleep while waiting, which would led him to get a damn cold. 

Elio sighed and stood up from the ground, throwing the half-smoked cigarette down in the garden after turning it off. He rubbed his chin and looked at the garden and then at the gate, telling himself to wait just two more minutes before going into his room. He wanted Oliver to arrive, he wanted him to come over and kiss him until he fell asleep, lulling him to sleep after making love to him, worshipping his body like he always did. Elio checked his watch and sighed, Oliver had closed the pizzeria an hour before and if he wanted to come and see Elio, he would have been already at the villa.

“Open the front door for me instead of throwing your cigarettes down on me.”

Elio frowned and looked down, seeing Oliver’s blond hair and shy smile. Elio nodded and rushed down the stair, opening the front door and allowing Oliver inside. They hugged and Elio wrapped a leg around Oliver’s thigh, trying to get up into his arms like he always did, succeeding. Oliver kissed him until they both were breathless, holding him tight to his chest and running his hands over his back, pulling him closer and making Elio close his eyes with a smile, head resting on his shoulder while his hands clutched at his shirt. 

They made love and Oliver didn’t press Elio into talking to him about what had happened that day, he kissed his skin and caressed his thighs, biting and sucking a small hickey on his jawline, not caring about leaving marks and making Elio shiver and arch into his touch, wanting more and craving more, feeling like his skin was on fire. They slept after that, Elio curled under Oliver’s arms, head on his chest and fingers curled around Oliver’s chest hair, which he had let grow back. Elio was aware of the fact that they had to talk, that they had to explain to Mafalda why Oliver was at the villa, but Elio didn’t want to worry that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I had an amazing night


	12. Chapter twelve

Oliver decided to stay with Elio during the following day, he wanted to understand what went through his mind and why he had avoided him that afternoon. He didn’t pressure him into talking and into allowing Oliver to see through his mind, but he was more cuddly and he never left Oliver alone, almost as if he was his shadow. Oliver couldn’t say that he minded, but he knew that a lot of things were bugging Elio, he could tell it just by looking at him and at how he interacted with him. He kissed him breathlessly once he woke up, he held his hand while brushing his teeth and he rested his head on his shoulder during breakfast, munching and toying around with his food.

When Oliver mentioned that he had to work that night, Elio sighed and shook his head, asking him if he could skip it, only for that night, because he wanted him to stay at the villa. He was feeling lonely, he said, but Oliver knew that he was scared of being alone. He didn’t pressure the matter and he didn’t force Elio to talk, he just shook his head and kissed his forehead, telling him that they could meet at Oliver’s apartment that night, that they could spend the whole Sunday together, too. Maybe they’d go to Milan, or maybe they’d go to Cremona, enjoy the warm weather and sudden storms. 

Oliver took his time that day, wanting to make Elio feel loved and appreciated. He kissed him slowly after breakfast, tasting the coffee and the honey that he had put on his bread. Elio smiled and rested his forehead on Oliver’s, they stared at each other and Oliver brushed his thumb over Elio’s lips, smiling and pulling back. He couldn’t tiptoe around the topic any longer, he couldn’t let Elio go away with what he had done and he couldn’t let him think that he didn’t care, because Oliver was surely going to do that. He could already see him overthinking while smiling, forcing himself to be happy and to put a facade up, trying to cover himself behind huge smiles and loud laughs. 

He asked Elio to join him for a ride to the countryside, saying that he needed to get something from a nice lady that lived close to him. 

Oliver drove to the countryside and Elio stayed quiet, he didn’t seem interested in speaking with Oliver and Oliver didn’t want to pressure him into speaking. He was okay with it, he was pretty sure that they were going to face a huge conversations in a few minutes and he was also sure that Elio was going to put on a facade and make Oliver believe that he was doing fine, which was a lie and Oliver knew that he needed to open up, or at least tell him something, even a small thing, just to let him know what was going through his mind. 

Oliver decided to keep driving until he reached a ghost spot next to a cornfield. He parked under a tall and large tree, opening the windows slightly and turning around to look at Elio. He saw confusion on his face and his perplexed gaze wandered around, trying to understand what Oliver had in mind. A playful smile grew on his face and he turned around, looking at Oliver and resting a hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently. Oliver sighed and took his hand in his own, kissing his knuckles and starting to massage his fingers. He must have thought that Oliver had driven him there to have sex, and Oliver admired the boldness of Elio’s mind, even though he was wrong. Oliver, at his age, would have never been okay with having sex in an open field. 

Elio frowned and looked around again, his hand twitched in Oliver’s and he rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. Oliver caressed his skin with the tip of his fingers and kissed his knuckles again, dropping his hand on his lap before taking a deep breath. He was trying to find the right words, the right things to say to Elio, he was surely going to get mad if Oliver chose his words poorly. He needed to understand what to say and he needed to figure out what was wrong with Elio before he could speak and lie again. 

Elio must have had problems at school and his reaction to that had been worrying, Elio had never “disappeared” before, so it must have been something serious, something that shook him to the core. Oliver sighed and rubbed his forehead, he knew that someone had had brought up gay people in class, it didn’t take him much for him to figure that out, but he didn’t know yet the seriousness of what had happened. Elio had taken it personally, he had reacted bad to it and Oliver understood that it was a sensitive topic, that it must have destroyed Elio’s confidence. 

“Are you mad at me about yesterday?” Elio asked, voice low and head down. 

“I’m not mad, confused, sure, but not mad.” Oliver traced soft lines over the back of his hand and sighed. “I figured something happened at school. And that it was serious, more serious than before.” He saw Elio’s jaw tighten and Oliver linked their pinkies together. “You don’t have to speak, not right now, but at least listen to me.” 

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Elio protested, barely a whisper. 

“Elio, Elio people will always have to say something bad about queer people, no matter what or who you are, they’ll always say something hurtful. When I was a teenager, when I was in the USA, I never really came out because I already knew my parents reaction. They found out about me and they kicked me out, but I was ready for that. Now, now I live in Italy and I have you, and life is not easier than before. AIDS has come around and people think that only gay men have it, which makes life even harder for us. However we know that it’s not just about us, it’s about everyone and everyone can have it. Public opinion thinks that it’s “a gay thing” but it’s not, and in the USA a lot of people have realized it.” Elio looked out of the window and sighed, Oliver smiled a little and tightened his grip on his hand. “I see why you’re sad, I see why you got hurt by what people have said to you, but you can’t let them put you down, you can’t let them win. You have to put on a strong mask, you have to fake a lot, but you’ll be happy once you get out of high-school, once people realize that being gay is not a problem. I’d suggest you to open up with your parents if you can, if you know that they will accept you, because you’ll have someone ready to catch you in case you fall.” 

“You didn’t have that, though, and you’re doing fine.” Elio murmured, hands tight around Oliver’s fingers. 

“I’m not, but I try to do my best. I have my job, I have my own pizzeria which is doing pretty good if I have to be honest, I have you. I have things and people that keep me happy and that make me feel loved, you especially. In these months I have experienced love in a way that I have never imagined, and I feel good, I feel like I can face the future because I know that being gay is okay, that I’m not wrong. Before arriving in Italy I was scared of myself, I didn’t fully accept me and I didn’t want to be around other gay people, I was afraid of them. Afraid of them judging me. Now I work with the Arcigay in Cremona and I’m happy to do that, I’m happy to see that I can support other people who are just like me. I worked with a lot of gay people, a lot of them had AIDS, and they all told me one thing: they were happy, because they didn’t live in a lie.” 

Elio sniffed and Oliver placed his arms around his shoulders, holding him tight to his chest before kissing his forehead, brushing his curls away and letting him relax, cry and think about nothing. Oliver listened to him cry and sob for a few minutes, his shirt was getting damp and Elio was clutching the cloth with his hands, almost rhythmically. Oliver caressed his back and kissed his head before reaching for a pack of sweets he kept in the glove compartment. Elio had stashed some of his favorite candies there, just in case he got hungry. 

“Have this, it’ll calm you down a little.” He murmured while stroking his back with gentle strokes. 

“I should have told you yesterday.” Elio’s voice was thick and trembling, it was barely above a whisper. “I should stop hiding.” 

Oliver kissed his cheek and rubbed his back in a soothing motion. “I know, but you have to be sure about coming out. And right now, I don’t think it’ll be a good idea.” 

“I guess I should wait until graduation.” Elio nodded and wiped his eyes on the back his hands. “Thanks for listening, and for this.” Elio took the sweet from Oliver’s hands and popped it in his mouth, resting his head on Oliver’s shoulder once more. “Can we go to your place? I want to sleep. I have a busy afternoon ahead of me.” 

Elio slept for a long, long time. Oliver did some chores and he made lunch for the two of them, promising himself to drive Elio back to the villa once they were done, he had to study for his Philosophy oral test and for his Math one, plus he had to call his parents. From what he had understood, Samuel and Annella were going to come back by the end of the month and Elio was nervous, mostly because they were going to assist to his finals and because he wanted to tell them about him and Oliver.

They ate while chatting a little and Elio taught Oliver some new words in Italian, which had improved a lot during those months. Oliver was surprised by how easily him and Elio had gotten along and months flew by easily, leading them into a nice relationship, based on love and appreciation. Oliver felt lucky whenever he saw Elio, whenever he kissed him or touched him Oliver felt like the most fortunate man in the entire universe. He got to kiss a marble sculpture and Elio was worth more than that. Oliver had never been so in love, he had never been happier, he didn’t know how he had managed to get someone like Elio. 

“My parents have been asking me if I want to travel after my graduation. It’s a typical thing, after you graduate you make a trip somewhere.” Elio said while munching on a piece of bread. “I want to visit Florence, all the museums you know. And then London, Paris and Amsterdam.” 

Oliver nodded and bit in his apple. “You’ll have a lot of fun, believe me. It’ll be amazing. Some of my friends went to Amsterdam and they enjoyed it, I don’t know about Paris nor London, but you’ll enjoy yourself a lot.” He smiled and stood up, grabbing the empty plates. “Are you going with Marzia?” 

“I don’t know yet, honestly.” Elio looked around and stretched his arms above his head. “I’ll see, I have a month before my finals so, yeah, I’ll see.” 

Oliver nodded and kissed the top of his head, smiling before rubbing his cheek with his thumb. 

He drove Elio back to the villa and they kissed in the car, Elio gripped his shoulders like his life depended on that, pulling Oliver closer and running a hand through his hair, biting his lower lip teasingly. They made out for few minutes and then Oliver caressed his cheeks before letting Elio go back to the villa, promising him that they would see each other the following night. Elio sighed and nodded, pouting before leaving with one last kiss on Oliver’s lips. Elio was happy and so was Oliver, they parted with a smile on their faces and Oliver felt at peace, he knew that Elio was now calmer and he knew that he was loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we all know what Tumblr is doing, I guess I'll have to move on Instagram because I want to keep making edits about CMBYN and Charmie. So, in case you want to see my ugly face and watch my mediocre edits you can follow me on [ Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/unique.elio/)


	13. Chapter thirteen

Elio was trembling, he didn’t know if it was because of the excitement or fear of seeing his parents again. Samuel had called him and told him that they were going to get back to Crema by the end of the week, and Friday arrived sooner that Elio expected. It was strange to be scared of seeing his parents, yet he was and his palms were sweaty. Oliver had asked him if he wanted him to drive him to the airport, but Elio had to say no, telling him that Anchise was going to drive them, plus he didn’t want to make his parents question him yet. 

Elio wanted to talk to them, of course he did, but he didn’t want to do it as soon as they landed back in Italy. He needed time, he needed to keep his mind under control and he needed to study everything he was going to tell them. He knew for sure that they weren’t going to hate him or see him differently, Annella in the past had made that clear, but he was still scared of saying that out loud, of outing himself. It wasn’t something he was comfortable doing outside his family, he wasn’t ready yet, but he figured out, thanks to Oliver, that his parents were going to help him, they were going to keep him happy and safe in their villa. 

Oliver had been understanding of him, he had made him feel okay with himself and he was his first real boyfriend, he was the first person he had ever loved. Elio didn’t understand how it was possible to love someone like he loved Oliver, it went above the standard conception of “love”. It was a deep and strong feeling that made his heart pound whenever Oliver stroked his cheeks, it was a mouth-watering sensation whenever he saw Oliver shower or undress and dress, it was a shiver down his spine whenever Oliver kissed him while gripping his hips. Whenever Elio looked at Oliver he couldn’t help but think that he was lucky, that he was one lucky bastard because he had someone like Oliver all for himself. 

Elio spent a lot of time at Oliver’s pizzeria, he stayed there until he closed and then they ate while sharing stories and anecdotes about their lives. They were happy in their own bubble, they were always together and Elio couldn’t get enough of him, he always wanted him around, he always wanted Oliver to be all over him, touching him, watching him, feeling him. Elio was young and that sometimes was a problem, especially for Elio when it came to make big decisions. He was always scared of disappointing Oliver, he was always scared of seeing him leave because of his childish behavior. He was petrified at the idea of losing Oliver because of their differences. 

School had been tough and Elio barely managed to get through a week without trowing a fit and stomping his foot down, saying that he didn’t want to go there. He couldn’t wait to be done, he wanted to leave high-school and get into the “adult world”, he wanted to go to University and yet he didn’t know anymore where he wanted to go. Before Oliver’s arrival he wanted to go to Columbia or Juilliard, he had never been sure about his future, but now he didn’t want to leave for the States because Oliver had everything in Italy and the idea of not seeing him for months was painful. He hadn’t talked to Oliver about University, and he knew that he should have, but he couldn’t make himself give in and talk about what worried him.  
Elio really wanted to give him and Oliver a chance, he really wanted them to have the possibility of growing old together, of maturing together, but he didn’t know how he could do it without making a fool of himself. He had heard Oliver chat with other people and he had heard him say that he would have liked to get married, but that wasn’t possible and Elio’s chest ache whenever he saw Oliver play with babies. He didn’t like to think about the fact that he couldn’t give Oliver what he wanted, he didn’t like to drive himself in a place of regrets and fears, which scarred his self-confidence day after day. 

What Elio wanted from the future, he didn’t know. He just knew that he wanted to be successful as his father, he wanted to have a house for the winter and go back to the villa during summer. He didn’t want a lot, he didn’t want to have money and he didn’t want to live in a fancy place, he just wanted to conduct a normal life and be satisfied with his job and with what he had. It was amazing, he thought, it was amazing how much he saw himself change in the future. Maybe in two years he would change his mind again, maybe he’d aim to get fame and money, but that was the thrilling part of his life, the constant feeling of seeing his ideal develop. 

Friday arrived way too quickly for Elio’s liking, and Anchise’s car still had that annoying problem that made the wheels screech whenever he turned left. Elio had never liked driving to Linate, the road was way too bumpy and the cars were always slow, because no one wanted to go and say goodbye to someone. He remembered how lost he had felt when he had said goodbye to his parents the previous summer, and now- almost a year later- he was going to pick them up at the airport. He couldn’t wait to feel his mother’s arms around him, he couldn’t wait to hear his father’s voice again. He had missed them a lot, he had missed being with his family. 

Linate was strangely quiet once they got there, and Elio wandered around the place, he had breakfast at the little _bar_ next to the entrance and he shared a cigarette with Anchise. His hands were trembling slightly and his knees were bouncing, nervous to hear the speaker announce that his parents’ flight had landed. Samuel could always tell when something was different, if something had happened to Elio, and that scared him a little, mostly because he didn’t want them to pick something out from how he acted, he wanted them to not notice anything. He knew that his fear was unmotivated, but he couldn’t help it and he wished he had Oliver’s self-control. 

Elio’s hands trembled and he nodded to Anchise, heading into the airport. Waiting, he could only wait for his parents to arrive, he was already tired and he was already nervous to see them emerge from the crowd. He could already picture in his mind his mother’s voice, he could already remember her scent and her soft clothes, while his dad wore stiff shirts and high-waisted trousers. He smiled at the memory of his dad’s voice, he remember how sweetly he always talked to him and how he always tried to make him discover new things. Elio couldn’t wait to show him how good he was doing in school. 

The flight had landed ten minutes before and Elio bit his nails, smiling and looking around. He smiled when he spotted his mother and her pale pink trolley, his dad was holding her arm gently and he was dragging his luggage behind him. Elio waved and Samuel waved back, they didn’t make a scene and Elio waited where he stood, just looking at his parents. Annella wore a light shirt, short sleeves that showed her bronzed arms, a pair of silk trousers that were held up by a designer’s belt. Her hair was immaculate and her nails were neatly done, just like her makeup, which made her eyes pop out more than usual. Elio felt his chest swell up when he saw her smile, pearly teeth and red lips. 

“ _Piccino_.” Annella said, she let go of her trolley and wrapped her arms around Elio, holding him tight to her chest while petting his back. “You look taller, and your hair! Gorgeous as always.” She kissed both of his cheeks and let a hand linger there, stroking the soft, almost baby-like, skin with her thumb. 

“Hi mom, hi dad.” Elio hugged Samuel, too, his usual strong cologne made Elio feel at home. “It’s good to see you, it’s good to have you back. How was Europe?” He asked, taking his mother’s trolley and starting to head out of the airport. 

Annella and Samuel talked about their experiences around Europe, showing Elio the picture they had taken and printed, eager to put them in their albums. Elio sat in the backseats with his mother, his father in the front with Anchise. He chatted and let his mother cuddle him, holding him to her side and running her hands through his hair, pulling gently and resting her cheek on the top of his head. Elio let out a deep breath and asked them to tell him more, to share more about Dublin, about Mykonos, about Istanbul, he wanted them to talk to him and to lull him back into their usual routine. They all cheered when Elio told him that Mafalda had decided to make them r _isotto alla milanese_ that night, and then chicken with broccoli and cauliflowers; she had also made a wonderful _tiramisù_. 

Dinner went by in a joyful way, Elio drank some wine with his dad and they chatted about his school year, about what he wanted to do in the future. Samuel interrogated him about the University and career he wanted to pursue, Elio fidgeted with his fingers for few seconds before shrugging, saying that he didn’t know if he wanted to leave Italy or if he wanted to go to Milan, study there and build a life for himself in the city. He didn’t know yet. The knowing smile Annella flashed at Samuel spoke loudly, almost too loudly even for Elio, who felt judged and naked in front of his parents for the first time. 

“Mafalda said that you hang out with Oliver a lot.” Annella said while spreading the risotto around the plate, trying to make it cool down a little. “I knew that you were going to like him. He’s shy, but he has a gentle soul. Your dad likes him, too, he knows a lot about history, art and philosophy.” She took a forkful of risotto and chewed slowly, her eyes never leaving Elio’s. 

“He’s smart, yes. We… we talk a lot about culture, we argue a lot about philosophers.” Elio murmured, trying to not let out what he wanted to say. It was too soon, too soon.

“Golden boy, charming, smart, hard-working.” Samuel rubbed his chin, feeling the texture of his beard under his fingers. “Jew.” He added before looking at Annella, then at Elio. “He spends the night here, Mafalda said so. You do like him, Elio.” 

“We- yes, we talk a lot and sometimes it happens that it’s too late for him to drive back to his place. He sleeps in my room, I take the attic.” He looked down at his plate, aware of the fact that his parents had, obviously, asked Mafalda to keep an eye on him. “He helped me with school, stuff happened and he just- he listened, gave me advices.” 

“He’s twenty-four and he had lived a lot, he had gone through a lot. I figured we could leave in a better mood knowing that, perhaps, you were going to meet him. Your mother and I thought that he would make a good impression on you, which happened in the end. I’m not surprised, though.” Samuel sipped his wine and put his fork down. “He’s a good influence.” 

“Even if he’s, you know, gay.” Elio said, the word sour on his tongue. 

“What would that change? You and him are good together and as long as he respects you, then I will accept him into our home.” Annella took Elio’s hand and stroked his knuckles. “ _Piccino_ , you really thought that we didn’t know what happened in France? Or at school during this year?” She asked, her voice soft as always, comforting. “We have been knowing Elio, and nothing changed. We don’t want you to say anything because we never thought that straight was the default, we accept you as you are.” 

“Society has a lot to learn, that is indeed true. But in our house, our home, we don’t like to assume things. You are Elio, and you are free to be who you want, and you know that we love you. Parenthood is hard, but if done right it’ll open the child’s eyes and it’ll make them see the world in the correct way. We try, and perhaps we succeeded.” Samuel added, going back to his risotto. 

Elio felt suddenly stupid for being scared of talking with his parents, he suddenly felt like he didn’t know them at all and that was a scary thought. He had been afraid of letting them in, he had been afraid of them planning his life without his consent, yet they had proved him wrong once again, making him feel like he had blown up a bubble. He didn’t have to come out, because they never assumed that he was heterosexual, and it felt great to know that. What the future held him, he didn’t know, but he had his family with him, and Oliver, and that made everything better. 

Knowing that you’re loved, knowing that you’re safe, can make everyone go through the roughest path ever without fear, without anxiety, because they know that they’ll have someone there to support them. Elio felt lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a rough week ugh, I'm so tired of school already. Anyway, here's the new chapter, I hope you've enjoyed it!


	14. Chapter fourteen

Oliver’s fears became real when he saw Samuel walk into his pizzeria on a Sunday evening. He had heard from Elio that they knew, that they had realized that him and Elio were more than just friends, and Oliver had felt the need to rip off his face and go back to America. Elio told him that his parents had take it well, that they were fine with the two of them being together, yet Oliver was still scared and nervous about it. He wasn’t used to being so open about himself, especially with parents and “old people”, not that Annella nor Samuel were old, but they had their ideals. 

Samuel walked into his pizzeria the Sunday night he came back to Italy, a small and polite smile on his face and his head raised high, proud, happy almost. Elio wasn’t not with him and Oliver cleared his throat, sighing and clutching his apron, trying to clean his hands as much as he could. Samuel stood in front of him and they looked at each other, silent and waiting, waiting for Oliver to say something. They studied each other and Oliver held his breath, head still up and eyes focused on Samuel, not in a challenging way. 

“Elio told me that I could find you here. Annella and I would like to have you over for dinner, tomorrow night perhaps.” Samuel stated, it wasn’t not a question and Oliver couldn’t nor wanted to say no. “Since I’m here, I’d like to bring home some food, Mafalda complimented your skills.” 

Oliver nodded and cleared his throat, rubbing the tip of his nose. “Sure, what do you want?” He asked, hands slightly trembling due to the nervousness of that situation. “How was Europe?”

“Beautiful, peaceful, we had a lot of fun.” 

They didn’t speak again and Oliver could feel Samuel’s eyes on the back of his head, almost in a judgmental way. Oliver kept making Samuel’s order and after few minutes of avoiding looking at him, Samuel sighed and decided to sit down, right in front of the counter with his legs crossed in a posed way, elegant like always. Oliver tried not to mind about what Samuel was doing there, he didn’t want to let his mind slip into a dark place, made of self-doubt and regrets. It was interesting how Samuel’s presence made his stomach tighten up, he knew that him and Annella took the news well, but he was still twenty-four while Elio was barely eighteen, it was a lot to take in. 

Oliver served Samuel and they looked at each other again, this time Samuel smiled and sighed quietly, grabbing the three boxes and a beer. He paid, his hands were marked by ink and they were slightly old, especially the skin which looked darker and ruined by age moles. Oliver smiled back and gave him the change, tapping his left foot nervously. Samuel waited, his eyes on Oliver and his hands back on the counter, not showing any intention of leaving the pizzeria. 

“Elio said that he’s going to drop by in an hour, he’s out with Marzia right now. I assume he told you.” Oliver nodded and licked his lower lip. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow night, don’t bother with wine we still have it. I discovered some amazing and ancient books in Istanbul and I’d like to show them to you.” 

“That’d be an honor.” Oliver murmured, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“I also saw that you left a copy of Montaigne’s _Essays_ in Elio’s room,  good choice. He told me you two have read them together, he also told me that you got him into contemporary poetry. I appreciate it, he has never liked poetry.” Samuel took the boxes and smiled at him. “Thank you for keeping company to Elio while we were away.” 

Oliver nodded and smiled politely. He was confused by what Samuel was telling him, he didn’t understand what game he was playing but he was sure that he had accepted the real nature of the relationship he had with Elio. He had no intentions of toying with his feelings, he didn’t want to make him hope for something stable and then leave him, yet the future was uncertain and that was scary, his rational side knew that every relationship, eventually, was going to end, but he hoped to e with Elio for at least a year, he wanted to see him bloom into a real man. Elio was still a teenager and Oliver knew that, but age had never been a problem for them. He wasn’t going to let his worries destroy the possibility of a nice relationship. 

Dinner at the villa arrived way too soon for Oliver, and him and Elio had briefly talked to each other during Saturday and Sunday morning. Elio had taken his bike and had visited Oliver at the pizzeria that Sunday morning, just to give him a little kiss and promise him that everything was going to be okay that night. Oliver believed him, of course, he had no doubts about it. At the same time, Oliver was scared to even stand close to Elio in front of his parents, he didn’t want them to think of him badly.  
It was the first time for him, he had never met someone’s parents, and he had never had a relationship like the one he had with Elio. It was slightly scary, slightly alarming. Elio had come into his life, changed it, made Oliver see the world in a different way and stuck next to him. Oliver wanted to understand how he could stand him him sometimes, he wondered if he ever got bored whenever he started to talk about something he was passionate about. During February they had gone to a museum and Oliver had talked and talked about the fine pieces of art they were seeing, and Elio had listened. 

Oliver wore his best clothes, a nice shirt and a pair of new jeans he had bought it Milan, after Elio forced him to. He drove to the villa and his hands were sweaty and his legs shaky, he didn’t understand why he was so nervous, he didn’t understand why he was not believing Elio’s word. He knew that the Perlman were going to do him no harm, that they were accepting of him, but Oliver was still able to hear his mother’s angry shouts and his father’s harsh words, they were hard memories and he couldn’t wipe them away. 

Mafalda opened the front door for him and hugged him, she combed his hair with her hands and patted his cheek gently. Elio was standing next to the stairs, a nice smile on his face and a turquoise shirt on, he had his arms crossed over his chest and he nodded at him, curling his fingers slightly. They looked at each other until Samuel emerged from the kitchen, Annella after him, they both smiled and hugged Oliver tight to their chest. Annella complimented him on his pizzeria and she patted his cheek in a lovely way, asking him to help Samuel with some things in his office after dinner.  
Elio stayed quiet until his parents left, Oliver looked at him and they headed to the living room, the soft couch was strangely inviting for Oliver and he couldn’t help but sit down on it and look up at Elio, watching him close the doors and rush next to his side. They took each other’s hands in their own and they just looked at each other, mouth shut and bodies close. Oliver wanted to kiss him but he didn’t want to be disrespectful to the Perlmans, he didn’t want them to walk into the living room and see him kiss Elio, hands in his hair and body pressed against his, eager to feel him all over himself. 

“I’m happy you’re here.” Elio said while rubbing his knuckles with the tip of his fingers. “I thought you were going to say no.” He shifter closer and their knees touched. “I’ve missed you during these days.” 

“Have you had fun with Marzia yesterday?” Oliver asked, leaving gently touches all over his hands and wrists. 

“I did. We went out drinking. Dad said you were scared to see him yesterday.” Elio smiled at him and licked his lower lip. “I wish we were in my room, I want to kiss you and touch you.” He whispered, his voice barely audible. 

“Why don’t you come to my place tomorrow?” Oliver asked with a kind smile, fingers daring to touch his chest. Elio nodded and smiled, sighing quietly before rubbing the tip of his nose on the back of his hand. “It’s Monday, I know that, but I can help you with Math if needed.” 

Elio laughed and shook his head. “Dad wants to talk to you tonight, you heard my mom, but I think it’ll go well, so you won’t have to use any excuses with them when you want to see me.” 

Oliver sighed and nodded, frowning slightly, his worries coming back. He didn’t know why Samuel, suddenly, made him that nervous, he had never seen the Professor as a scary figure, yet he was now seeing his son and that changed everything, at least for Oliver. He didn’t know what Samuel was going to tell him, but he hoped for the best. 

Dinner went by way too easily and Elio was sitting in front of Oliver, they had their feet joined under the table and Elio was stroking his calves with his bare toes. It was a soothing motion that made Oliver’s back go slack, his fingers weren’t cramping anymore and his eyes were more focused and yet erratic. They went through dinner while talking about Europe, about school, about Oliver’s life, about his pizzeria, Annella smoked once and Samuel twice, offering one to Oliver, too. Elio smiled and nodded, in a silent encouraging way. 

For dessert Mafalda made _anello di Monaco_ and in less than three minutes, half of it was gone. Elio took a big portion and he served himself some melon ice cream, too- Oliver now understood why Mafalda always made a lot of sweet plates, he never noticed Elio’s sweet tooth. They shared few stories and then Samuel asked Oliver to help him in his study, telling him to serve himself any liquor he wanted. Oliver picked _grappa_ , and Samuel decided to serve himself a glass of _amaro_. Elio smiled up at Oliver and mouthed at him that he was going to wait for him in his bedroom, Oliver just nodded, lips pursed. 

Oliver had seen Samuel’s office twice, and it was always messy and pretty lived in. Now, though, it was tidy and aseptic, it didn’t look like Samuel’s office at all. He stood quietly next to the door and he looked around, noticing a poster on a wall and noticing some souvenirs from all over the continent. Oliver cleared his throat and rubbed his chin while glancing at his glass, zoned out and not ready to hear what Samuel was going to tell him, he was sure that it was going to be a negative thing, and he didn’t know if he could actually go and kiss Elio goodnight after being done with Samuel. 

“As I told you yesterday, I discovered two ancients book in Istanbul. I’d like to go through a paragraph with you.” Samuel said picking a dusty and yellowish book from his desk. He invited him to sit next to him on the old and worn out couch he had next to the window. “It’s a really interesting story, really old, too.” Oliver nodded and stared at the pages, smiling when he saw Samuel handle the book like a precious flower. “It narrates about a Persian prince who fell in love with an Arabian princess, thus the father’s princess gave the prince an ostrich egg, telling him to keep it safe and not make it crack and to carry it with himself wherever he went. If he managed to keep the egg intact for a whole year, he could marry the Princess.” Samuel turned two pages and pointed at an underlined section. “This Prince was a warrior, he went to war and he carried the egg with him. He got hurt, he fell, he tumbled, he ran, but the egg remained intact. After a year, where he fought every single day and even lost three fingers, he went back to the Princess’ father. He showed him the egg, and the father was surprised to see that it hadn’t cracked.” Samuel looked at Oliver and closed the book. “It’s a beautiful story, isn’t it?” Oliver nodded and furrowed his brows. “You had your time and the egg is still intact.” Oliver licked his lower lip and stared at Samuel, trying to show any emotions on his face. He didn’t want to cheer too soon since Samuel was clearly not done talking. “I’m sure I’ll see you around more often, and I’m also sure that you’ll help me with my academic duties.” 

“Yes sir.” Oliver smiled and straightened his back, suddenly lighter and calmer. “It’ll be an honor.” 

Samuel dismissed him after they went through two other paragraphs, they talked about old books and tales and Oliver promised him that he was going to dedicate at least an hour per day to transcribing those stories with him, helping him translating them into English and Italian. Oliver closed the office behind his shoulders and took a deep breath, heading upstairs and almost running to Elio’s room. He opened his door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up in case he was sleeping. Elio was asleep, curled on the edge go the bed with a hand under his cheek. Oliver sat next to him and brushed his hair out of his face, scooting him further away from the. He lay down, spooning Elio, holding him tight and brushing his lips over his bare shoulder in a silent goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! I'm so excited to post the epilogue and to start a new fic!   
> I had an amazing day with my gf today and we had a lot of fun, even if it was cold. How was your day, guys?  
> See you next week!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

May and June went in a breath, and Elio got his degree. He left high school forever with the highest score on a sunny and warm June Wednesday. He was happy and he was thrilled at the idea of starting to apply into universities, but he was even more excited at the idea of traveling around his favorite cities with Marzia, and perhaps Oliver- it wasn’t sure yet. He had decided to become a doctor after talking with the guys at the Arcigay, seeing his people suffer because of AIDS stirred something into his brain. 

Oliver asked to the Perlmans if he could take Elio out for dinner the night of his ceremony. Even if Elio was eighteen and independent, Oliver still asked his parents whenever he wanted to take him out. They said yes, and Oliver reserved them a table in Milan, not telling Elio anything but that he was supposed to wear something fancy- that made Elio frown and then smile. They never went out for dinner, they never liked to spend too much on restaurants, but that was an important moment of Elio’s life and Oliver wanted to celebrate. 

The villa was quiet that day, everyone was out in the garden and Elio took his sweet time in getting ready, not wanting to do anything in the wrong way. He wanted to impress Oliver, he wanted to make him want him more than ever. It was a silly thought and he knew it, but he couldn’t really help it, he wanted to look perfect just for Oliver, he wanted to surprise him and show him how much he cared about their date. They never did those type of things, they never went out to have dinner- mostly because of Elio’s school- but now Oliver had booked them a table in a fancy restaurant and Elio wanted to make him proud. 

Oliver arrived quite early and Elio made him wait for twenty minutes, still trying to comb his hair in a natural yet styled manner. Oliver hanged out with Samuel, they talked about politics and about literature, listening to each other while sipping a glass of _prosecco_. Oliver didn’t mind waiting, he could wait hours for Elio, however that day he felt a shiver ran down his spine at the thought that they were going to spend the night at his place, after a gracious dinner in Milan. He had had Elio sleep in his apartment few times, but now it was different and he didn’t knew why, it just was and that sent a thrill of expectation down his spine. 

Elio walked out of his bedroom with a white shirt on, it was a little too large on him but it made him look professional, attractive. He was wearing a tight pair of jeans and a pair of English moccasins, smelling like cologne. Oliver smiled and Elio smiled back, he kissed his mother and father goodbye, promising them to call once they got back to Oliver’s place, just to let them know that they were okay and at home. Oliver dared to place his left hand on the small of Elio’s back, walking with him to his car. He couldn’t express with words how much he liked Elio that night, he couldn’t say how he felt about his think ankles showing from under the jeans. 

They listened to jazz music while driving to Milan, and Elio rested his head on the window, looking at the road while caressing Oliver’s knuckles. Elio was happy, excited, nervous, he wanted to do everything he could with Oliver that night, he wanted to kiss him and let him hold him. He wanted to have dinner with him, he wanted to sit next to him and chat about their future, about his worries, about universities. He was so glad to have Oliver with him, he was glad to be with someone like him, to be able to share his thoughts with him and kiss him whenever he wanted. 

Elio was happy and they headed to the restaurant. They were walking next to each other while chuckling and talking in a hushed voice, looking at their hands. He smiled and looked at the nice and fancy place, spotting few tables on a patio, candles and fancy plates on those tables. He was nervous, he had never went to such an intimate place during his whole life. He smiled up at Oliver and shook his head, licking his lower lip and giving his arm a squeeze, feeling the ground under his feet disappear. He couldn’t understand how Oliver could spoil him that much, how he could even look at Elio and think that he deserved all those things. He was too kind, yet Elio craved his kindness everyday, it made him feel special and he tried to do the same for Oliver. 

Dinner went by easily, they chatted and laughed, shared food and acted like an open couple. Oliver had chosen a good place and Elio didn’t know how he could even know about the existence of that restaurant; he didn’t ask, though. Oliver rested his hands on top of Elio’s after they shared the dessert, he asked him if he wanted to go back to his place as soon as they were done, or if he wanted to go and see the city at night. Elio shook his head, saying that he was going to die if he didn’t have Oliver by his side, naked and in bed, by the end of the hour. 

Oliver’s place always smelled like warmth, love and vanilla. Oliver had stopped smoking weed and Elio was slightly disappointed, but he appreciated to get high and then let Oliver baby him for few hours, letting his mind go. He took his shoes off as soon as he walked into the apartment and Oliver hugged him from behind, starting to unbutton his shirt with steady hands. Elio tilted his head back and looked at him with droopy eyes, already filled with lust and need. He kissed his cheek, mouthed at his jawline and caressed his neck with the tip of his fingers. Oliver just smiled, leaving his shirt open and starting to drag him into his bedroom. 

Oliver sat on the bed and Elio straddled his lap, curling his arms around his neck before placing his palms over his cheek, tilting his head slightly and kissing him hungrily, licking his lower lip with a grin. He was feeling pure bliss, he was weightless under Oliver’s hands. He let Oliver roll him down on the bed, lips on his neck and chest, hands on his hips. Elio moaned and let his hands slip into Oliver’s hair, tugging it before tilting his head with a soft whimper, feeling Oliver bite his nipples gently, toying with them slightly. 

“Elio…” Oliver whispered while leaving a kiss on the mole next to his nipple. “Elio, Elio, Elio…” he said like a mantra, smiling at him while leaving a kiss on his cheek. 

“Oliver, I’m… I’m so happy, Oliver.” He murmured while curling his toes. “You make me so happy.” He treated his fingers through his hair and licked his lower lip. “Touch me, now, please.” 

“Yeah, I will. But now… now come here and let me kiss you.” 

Elio looked at the ceiling and smiled softly, his hands caressed Oliver’s shoulders and he arched his back slightly, feeling a shiver ran through his body. He still had his jeans on, they were tight in front of his groin and he was trying to wriggle out of them, but Oliver had a solid grip on his hips, pinning him down to the bed. Elio had his toes curled and his eyes closed, lips parted, nervous and needy. He wanted to feel Oliver all over him, he wanted Oliver to take care of him like every single time they slept together. Elio was so happy, so in love. 

Oliver took his sweet time with everything, he worshipped Elio’s body and he kissed every inch of his skin, biting into the soft flesh while rubbing his nose over his smooth and pale body, breathing in his scent. Elio had the power of making his skin itch with need and want, which drove him crazy and it made him want to rub his whole body on Elio’s. They connected easily and Oliver was surprised to see how much he craved Elio’s touch whenever he had the chance to take it, to feel it, to just admire the small palm land on his skin, smooth and soft. Oliver had never felt such a high feeling ran through his bones. 

When Elio kissed Oliver he didn’t expect him to stop and stare at him, he didn’t expect Oliver to bite his lower lip and pull it, licking it while smiling. Elio clasped his hands around Oliver’s neck and he tightened his jawline, making it look more prominent and making Oliver’s eyes become darker. He had never seen him so driven by lust, it was an interesting sight and Elio studied how Oliver’s face morphed into the perfect portrait of a Greek god, piloted by passion. He grinned at how hungrily Oliver bit his neck, his left hand on it, squeezing slightly and making Elio’s eyes flutter close. They had never experienced much, but Elio was a sucker for the feeling of Oliver’s hands around his neck; a dominant way of making him feel owned, wanted. 

“Tighter.” He whispered when Oliver let go of his neck. “Hold me down.” He pleaded, eyes blown and lips swollen. 

“Later.” Oliver grunted, mouth close to his groin. 

Oliver undressed Elio with a smooth motion, he slipped his jeans away and then his boxers, leaving Elio naked, vulnerable. He was hard, harder than ever, and Oliver left a kiss over his inner thighs, smoothing the skin with his hands and pressing his thumbs on the prominent bones. Elio moaned and bucked his hips up, seeking a feeling of warmth and pleasure. Oliver closed his lips around the tip of Elio’s cock and he barely sucked, barely moved, he just left it there, eyes focused on Elio’s face. They looked at each other and Elio hooked his fingers in his hair, leaving them there without making his head move at all. 

Elio let his eyes follow the movements of Oliver’s head, watching with curious eyes how his jaw stretched, how the nerves in his neck trembled, how his fingers flexed and curled around his erection, holding it and squeezing it gently whenever Elio moaned too loudly, close to reach his orgasm. One of Oliver’s hands reached his balls and he rolled them around in his palm, making Elio curse and bit into the pillow, shutting his eyes with a groan. Elio dared to raise his head a little, trying to find a better angle to observe Oliver’s lips and tensed neck. 

Oliver let go of his cock and reached for his nightstand, he grabbed the lube and a condom, tossing them on the bed next to him. He liked to suck Elio off while stretching him, he was hyper-sensitive and he mewled, almost, without closing his eyes and letting his head fall down on the bed. Indeed, after few minutes of fingering him while toying with his frenulum, Elio tossed his head back and thrust his hips up, almost shoving his whole length down Oliver’s throat. Oliver smiled and let go, adding a third finger and stretching him more, hearing Elio pant and move his hands around, feeling the one in his hair tighten his grip. 

Elio never felt violated when Oliver started to press into him, opening him up and holding his right shoulder with a hand, almost pinning him down. He felt pure bliss whenever Oliver thrust into him, soft moans in his ears and warm, big hands all over his body, making him feel worshipped and wanted. Elio opened his eyes and stared right into Oliver’s face, rubbing his nose over his neck and resting his forehead there. Oliver sped up, the friction hit Elio’s prostate and he hissed, arching his back and allowing Oliver to slip an arm around him, supporting his back and making the angle change slightly. 

That “later” finally arrived and Oliver’s hand went back around Elio’s neck, strong and forceful fingers wrapped around his thin neck, smooth palm over his Adam’s apple. Oliver squeezed without pressing, careful on not cutting Elio’s air off, letting him breath slightly while pinning him down. Elio moaned and writhed, hips bucking up and come spurting out of his cock without warning. Oliver was surprised to see Elio let go so easily, yet he kept fucking into him until he reached his own orgasm, letting his head fall on top of Elio’s shoulder, hand going slack over his neck. Elio was like jelly on the bed, tired and sleepy; Oliver felt boneless. 

“Sorry for coming so soon.” Elio whispered while trying to catch his breath. 

Oliver laughed and shook his head, pulling out of him and smoothing his cheek with his hand, pressing a kiss on his forehead. “Stop being silly.” He murmured while caressing his chest with the tip of his fingers. “I love you.” 

Elio blinked and stared at him without talking, his lower lip between his teeth and his brows furrowed. He wasn’t expecting Oliver to confess his love so openly, without making a “scene” of it. After all, they had been together for a long time and Elio appreciated how open he acted with him, how free of expressing himself he was. Elio smiled, reached for his face with his right hand and kissed him, soft and gentle, barely a peck over his lips.

“I love you, too.” 

Oliver nodded once, he draped an arm above Elio’s body and tugged him closer, resting his head under his neck, pulling him even closer while cuddling into him, a satisfied smile on his face, legs intertwined. Elio let his fingers trace a soft and smooth line over Oliver’s bare shoulders, eyes closed and lips parted, feeling safe into their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is the end of "Home". I hope you've enjoyed this little fic and I want to thank everyone who read it, commented and left kudos. I found a welcoming place in this fandom and I can't wait to be an active part of it again. Thank you guys, really.  
> I'll see you again in 2019 with a new fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi to me on[Tumblr](https://uniquelio.tumblr.com/)


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